#he's laying in bed at night wide awake staring at the ceiling wondering if there's something wrong with him LOL

[willowser]

i really think having an emotional connection is so important to bakugou sexually.

like, i think he has to be in the exact right mood in order to get off by himself at home alone. can't be too tired, can't be too stressed out, can't have too much on his mind regarding work or other things, and even if it's been a while and his body is sensitive and wanting for it—if his head is not right, he can sit there for hours and never reach his peak.

which is why i think ultimately he doesn't do it that often, because it pisses him off to waste the time and not find the release. makes him more agitated. i think porn for the most part doesn't help him because he's too picky, literature probably helps a bit more, but he's still picky, and his imagination can get him there, but his headspace has to be right.

i think he's slow to hands-on stuff, when your relationship starts, and you can tell he's going to be like that pretty quickly. he responds to your touch like it's an accident; you reach out to hold his hand and he pulls his back like your knuckles have knocked by chance, like you're too close. it's not meant to be a rejection of any kind, it's just—he doesn't want you to touch him if you don't want to. if you don't mean to.

but when he realizes that you mean to, that you want to—

it has him skyrocketing. surprises him terribly, the affect you have on his body, and how quickly, because not even he can always have that affect on his own body.

you reach up to push some hair out of his face and your fingers skirt his cheekbone and he feels like a stupid gross disgusting puddle of mush. you loop your arm through his and lean into him while you're walking and he feels like a prize, like he's yours and you're his and you want everybody to know and that gives him a rush of pride that makes his head woozy.

he's dropping you off at home after date number he-doesn't-know and you're staring up at him outside your front door and he knows he should kiss you so he does and his whole body lights up with a heat he doesn't recognize at all. just from that.

and then he finally gets it: that heart-aching, stomach turning, body shaking want he's only ever heard about, and now finally feels.

#UGH you make him feel like he's going insane #he's laying in bed at night wide awake staring at the ceiling wondering if there's something wrong with him LOL #should he be thinking about you this much ? it can't be healthy to think about you THIS MUCH right ? #something HAS to be wrong with him bc why is he thinking about you smiling at him and laughing at some not-funny joke you made and #WANTING TO RIP OUT OF HIS SKIN RAAAAHHHHH #he wants to blast himself into the sun he's CRAZY #oh man i love him so #HE makes ME insane #✿ thoughts: bakugou

[thesuperiorrobin]

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬~

Pairing: Husband!Damian Wayne x Wife!Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warning: reader has bad thought about her marriage with Damian, maybe slight cursing, marriage problems? Not proofread

(Requested!)

He doesn’t love you.

That’s why he doesn’t wear his ring as often anymore.

He found someone else that’s why he’s so distant with you now.

A groan leaves past your lips, fixing your position on your bed, moving from your side to laying on your back. Eyes adjusting to the dark as you stare up at the white ceiling. Another thoughtful night, ones that you hated the most were also the ones where Damian spends most of the night hours cooped up in his study hall—finishing up paper for Wayne Enterprises. It seems that all he’s been doing since Bruce passed it down to him after the old man’s retirement.

You really couldn’t blame anyone, that’s what owning a big company is about, but you would have never thought that it would take time away from each other. It’s a selfish thought, but all you really want to do is spend time with your husband. Sometimes it feels like he’s doing it to get away from you. That’s what you think.

Maybe confronting him would put you at ease for a while. You debated whether or not you should go now or wait until he wasn’t busy burying his nose in his paperwork, but with much arguing with yourself and your thoughts you came to a conclusion to just get up and go ask.

“Oh what the hell”

The master bed creeks slightly as you get up and slide yourself up. Slipping your feet into your fluffy slippers that were always placed beside your side of the bed, you push yourself up from the mattress. You pick up a thinner blanket that was draped over a chair in your room and draped it over your shoulders before leave to go find Damian. Which wasn’t very hard to find considering he’s been in his study, which was Bruce’s old study, since early this afternoon.

Now it’s past midnight, and you are in front of the door of the room, hand hovering over the door knob wondering if it was the right time to talk about it. With a soft sigh you grasp the knob gently pushing the door open as you walk in. Your eyes catch a glimpse of Damian’s figure hunched over his desk scribbling down on paper as quickly as he can.

“Damian?” You call out, the sound of pen against paper stops as Damian’s eyes catch yours humming at you indicating you’ve got his attention. “You should come to bed” you bite back your tongue “it’s late” Damian smiles at you, a very genuine one

“in a minute. I’m almost done here. Carry on and go back to sleep Habibti'' well, He didn’t exactly specify that you had to go back to your room and sleep, so it caught him by surprise when he catches you getting you comfortable on the big L shape couch in the room that sets a few feet away from his desk. He can’t help but chuckle. “What are you doing?”

He questions and you shrug innocently “you said I should go back to sleep so that’s what I’m doing. Wake me up when you’re finished so we can go back to our bedroom. Together” you close your eyes, and listen as the sound of pen and paper continue. But you can’t fall back asleep—the sound has nothing to do with it, you actually enjoy the sound but the thoughts are what keep you awake. Troubling you as you lay on your back, eyes wide open as you stare up at the ceiling much like earlier.

Too deep in thought you never hear the sounds stop, the chair squeaking against the wooden floor as Damian gets up from his seat, his footsteps quiet. You don’t notice him until he’s sitting right beside your head, his warm hand gently creasing down your cheek.

“What seems to be troubling you, zawjati?” You stay quiet for a moment before answering

“it’s Nothing”

“it’s clearly something if it’s keeping you up at this hour” he says, staring down at your lying form. You grab hold of his hand—keeping it from creasing your face any further. You pull yourself up so your back is fully up against the cushions, knees pulled up against your chest. Damian watches your every move closely. You keep your eyes low—away from his gaze as you bite the side of your cheek.

“Do….” You sigh out for what seemed to be the nth time today. Finally, you have the courage to look him in the eye “Do you still love me?” Searching, your eyes linger in his eyes for a sign. But you couldn’t find anything, but then again he was always good at hiding his emotions for people—even from you. The silence from him gave you a bad feeling as tears were pricking at the corner of your eyes—you don’t have the courage to look him in the eyes anymore “Seems like I’ve got my answer then huh'' Damian doesn’t register anything until your shuffling yourself off from the couch. He’s quick to reach out to you before you can take another step away from him, pulling you back down as you sit beside him—close with your hips touching. He starts to wipe the tears that threaten to fall down your cheek.

“Where on earth did you get that idea from?” He questions, you shrug your lips turning into a straight as you answer

“It doesn’t matter—“

“it does if these thoughts are poisoning yours” he gently taps against your forehead. You nod slowly, throat dry as you try to explain.

“you’ve been so distant— and I know it’s because of work but sometimes it feels like it’s not” he doesn’t interrupt—no matter how many times he wants to deny it, it’s best to hear you out first. As you continue his strong arm wraps around your shoulder softly—bringing you closer to his side, his free arm reaching over and placing your head on his shoulder, you don’t fight it back as you make yourself comfortable “it’s selfish I know but—I don’t know. I barely see you anymore. It’s frustrating” by the end of it you're fidgeting around with his fingers on your lap.

Damian’s head is laying on top of yours “wanting my love is never selfish” he speaks up “I’m sorry for neglecting my duties as your husband”

You shake your head “you don’t have to apologize, I should be the one apologizing seeing as I was the one that jumped to conclusions”

Damian grips your hand tightly— but not too tight where it hurts. “You should have said something, if I had known sooner I would have pushed my work aside and came to your aid” now you were starting to feel bad—it was clear it wasn’t his intention to do so but you couldn’t help it.

Your groans had Damian staring at you as you laid your head in your hands “Now I feel bad” there’s a soft gaze in his eyes

“Don’t be” Damian gets up from his spot beside you and grasps your hand in his—thumb grazing over your knuckles “come, let’s go to bed shall we? I believe I have a tired wife who needs her beauty sleep?” Rolling your eyes he pulls you to your feet and before you knew it you were yelping as he lifted you up in the air as carried you in a bridal position. “I will move my plans so that I can spend the next few days with you, zawjati” he leans his head done and kisses your forehead “how does that sound’ giving him a soft smile your response

“I actually like the sound of that”

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader #damian x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian scenarios

[katiexpunk]

Heat Wave | Pairing Javier Peña X fem!Reader

Summary:  In the sweltering haze of a Colombian heatwave, everyone's on edge, including you, your nerves fried crispier than plantains in a hot skillet. Even Javi is not immune - his nights spent tossing and turning, the relentless heat driving him mad. Imagine his surprise - and yours - when he knocks on your door late one night, a little buzzed and sweaty, craving a distraction. What's a generous soul to do but let him in and share some cool, sweet cholado? As the night unfurls, the heat outside might be unbearable, but inside, things are just starting to warm up.

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI. I say this with love -- GTFO.

Word count: 5K

Warnings: Javi wasn't super nice to reader and has to gravel a bit, female masturbation, references to the cartels, use of pet names (Hermosa, Cariño), emotions, reader cries, sweat, fingering, female stimulation, face-fucking, blowjob, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up, don't lead by my written example), direct p in v, pussy slap, somewhat rough sex, sensual sex, creampie, and cum eating.

Authors Note: Eek! This is my first time writing for Javi, so be kind to be hunnie bunnies. Joel will always have my smutty heart, but damn, Javi can fucking get it. Special thanks to @sydneyinacoma for being my personal hype woman on this one, and to @josephquinnswhore for telling me this premise wasn't total trash. Ily bbs.

Also I often edit after I post (hello typos) so if you saw one originally sorry 🫣

The window is wide open, but the curtains aren’t moving; only offering a slight flutter now and again, offering a deceptive promise of a breeze that you know will never come. You lay there, restlessly, the cotton sheets sticking to your damp skin. The eerie silence of the room was punctuated by the whirring fan overhead, its blades churning the stale, hot air in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. It’s nearly midnight, hours since you’d gone to bed, but yet, you find yourself staring at the ceiling, cursing why you ever decided to move to Colombia. Had you known it would be the hottest summer on record, you might have thought differently and denied the job. 

You turn to your side, annoyed at the hair clinging to the back of your neck and forehead like velcro. You stare at the alarm clock on your nightstand, watching the numbers slowly change, like a shitty version of trying to count sheep, but there’s no point. You’re wide awake, and there doesn’t seem to be anything that can change that. 

You roll onto your back to splay out like a starfish, hoping the gap between your limbs will somehow offer you some reprieve from your burning core, and you stare at the ceiling. You wonder if you’ll actually get any sleep tonight. The heat was enough to keep you awake, but there were other things that would probably prevent you from dozing off if the heat weren’t a factor. 

Outside of the thud of your own pulse, it’s completely quiet in your apartment. You’re sure people are awake, but no sound comes from Steve and Connie’s apartment next door; nor from Javi’s. Odd, you think, considering work has been slow as of late and most of Colombia, even the cartels have hidden themselves away from the relenting sun and suffocating humidity, too tired to do anything substantial. 

In your haze, eyes transfixed on the ceiling panels above you, you try your best to think about something else, anything but him, but your last conversation replays in your brain like a bad rerun. 

You knew he wasn’t really the type to settle down, and you were more than aware of his reputation, yet you let yourself hope that this situation might be different, that you might be the one to change him. 

He had insisted that it was for the best and that he wasn’t the right guy for you; that it should be simple for you to move forward and erase any trace of your connection, and that he should do the same. Perhaps that was the reality of it; maybe it was only you who had experienced a heightened sense of joy during those countless nights he held you close. When wrapped in his embrace, the burden of your conscience seemed to lighten, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had ever found comfort in your presence as well.

Your mind begins to drift to the ways he made you feel like you were the most precious thing in the world. You can still feel his pillowy lips leaving a soft trail of kisses up your neck and across your jaw, cock buried deep inside of you. The memory of it sits low in your belly, adding to the stickiness between your thighs, now a cruel mixture of sweat and arousal. 

Your mind swirls with thoughts of him, and you decide that there might be one thing you’ve yet to try that might be able to help you fall asleep. You lay there, trying to focus, to let your mind sink into better days, better nights, ones you had spent wrapped around him in every way possible.

You tease your fingertips along the thin fabric of your tank top, trying to ignore the way the sweat that’s seeped into its fibers causes it to bunch up as you stroke your hand down your sternum. You circle your nipples through the fabric, trying to call forward any sense of arousal or sensuality. You slide your hand under the waistband of your linen shorts and place your hand between your legs, resting it atop your lace underwear, already wet, courtesy of Colombia and your incessant thoughts of Javi. 

Your fingers are quite delicate compared to his, and you miss the thickness only he can seem to provide. You slide your underwear to the slide, and drag your index finger through your folds, bringing your slick up to your clit. Your hips lift at the sensation, and you let out a little moan.  

You begin to slowly draw small circles, eventually increasing your pace enough to provide a nice mix of movement and pressure. Your restless thoughts of him have you so keyed up, already so close to the cliff of your orgasm you can practically taste it. Your body heats even more as you chase your high, desperate for a release, practically begging for an escape from this inferno. Like a cord about to snap, you swear you’re starting to see stars when you hear it  – knock, knock – and the distraction cruelly pulls you back from the edge, your pressure gauge falls, and your orgasm retreats back inside you like you scared it. 

No! Fuck. 

Now hot, tired, and sexually frustrated, you let out a long sigh. You slide your underwear back in place and withdraw your hand from your shorts. You wipe your wet fingers on the fabric beneath you, gaze at the clock once more, and wonder who the hell would be at your door at this hour. You rise, legs still a little shaky from your would-be orgasm, and walk over to answer it. 

Your aggravation at the disruption vanishes the moment you clock his face through the peephole. You unlock the top and bottom lock and release the chain from the door, opening it to completely see him. 

He looks like he’s been chewed up and spat out, his hair a disheveled mess of thick, dark, damp curls, small beads of perspiration collecting on his lush, tan skin. You’ve seen him like this before, a look of affliction, hiding behind soft brown eyes. But there’s something else flickering in his eyes – some kind of yearning. For what? You haven’t got a clue. He’s made his stance on your relationship very clear, or at least, the parade of women filing in and out of his apartment speaks volumes. 

You lean up against the door frame, waiting for him to speak, to give some sort of explanation as to why he’s on your doorstep.

“Hey,” is all he says, eyeing you up and down, eyes lingering a little too long on your exposed stomach. 

You’re positive you must look like a mess right now, but you don’t really care, you feel like one. 

“Javi – is everything okay? It’s late,” you answer quietly.

He crosses his arms, then uncrosses them, then shifts the weight from one hip to another, unsure of himself, obviously uncomfortable. 

“I know, ‘m really sorry to bother you. Can I come in?” he asks, looking at you with his big puppy dog eyes, and you can’t turn him down. You step aside so he can enter your small living room, hoping he can’t smell your arousal on you, hoping that he’ll assume the musk lingering in the air was just from the cracked window, the outside world seeping in. 

Your apartment was rather small to begin with, but with his presence, it seemed to shrink before your eyes. He walks over to the center of the room, and pauses once he sees the couch; a memory of him railing you on it flashes through his brain. 

No. 

No, he won’t let himself think about that. He swallows the thought, and palms at his jeans to adjust himself.  He’s not here for that, he’s here to gravel.

You let out a sigh, and walk over to him. You come to stand right in front of him, giving him the opportunity to commit the sight of you like this to memory – all pretty, skin clammy, cheeks a darker shade of pink than normal. You pause before saying anything, still unsure why he’s here in the first place. 

“Can I get you some water, whiskey, anything?” you ask, cringing at how awkward it feels to play hostess with him now, considering he’s explored every inch of your body with his tongue.

Javier shakes his head and runs a hand over his forehead to wipe away the sweat collecting there as if he’s deciding what to say. 

“Mmm, no. Probably shouldn’t have any more whiskey tonight,” he admits. “Some water would be good. You don’t happen to have anything cold by chance, do you? This heat is fucking killing me,” he says. 

“Actually, yeah, I do,” you say, your voice an octave too high, remembering your creation earlier this evening. You nod to Javi to take a seat on the couch, giving him a perfect view to watch as you saunter over to the kitchen. You open the freezer and reveal a container with a kaleidoscope of colors. It closes with a thud, and you open the fridge next, pulling from it a bowl of fresh fruit – juicy chunks of mango, sweet pineapple, zesty oranges – and a can of whipped cream. Javier watches intently as you gather it all neatly onto a little tray, glide over to the end of the tiny kitchen to grab two spoons from a drawer, and close it with a quick thrust of your hip. 

You place the tray on the coffee table. The couch lets out a little squeak as you find your seat next to his. 

“Fresh cholado – made it tonight,” you say, offering him a spoon. 

You neatly assemble the fruit on top of the colorful slushy mixture. The sound of the whipped cream releasing its contents onto the top of the fruit causes the hair on the back of his neck to rise to stand. 

“Go ahead, dig in,” you say, offering him a kind smile. God, you’re always so sweet and nice to him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. 

Both with a spoon in hand now, you delve into the sensory masterpiece, pausing in silence as you savor the blend of textures and tastes, a welcomed escape from the heat.

Javier closes his eyes and lets out a small hum in delight. 

“This is so good, holy shit,” he praises, not even finishing with his latest bite before he’s digging in for another. 

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, and you really mean it. 

The elephant in the room becomes harder and harder to ignore. 

“Why are you here, Javier?” you ask, voice a little unsure. 

His eyes hold your gaze for a moment, and he swallows his last bite and then places the metal spoon onto the tray in front of you both. He doesn’t say anything, instead, he holds out his hand, his eyes pleading with you to take it. You hesitate, before deciding to place your palm in his, allowing his fingers to wrap around yours. He stares at it, the pad of his thumb tracing over the back of it, and he inches closer to you. 

Neither of you says anything, but your brows furrow and you look at him, hoping he can see the pain – the hurt he inflicted on you – in your eyes. 

“Cariño,” he whispers softly, and you sense the obvious change in his tone. His hand releases yours, and he brings his palm up to land on your cheek. Maybe it was just the heat playing tricks with your emotions, but the simple action causes tears to well up in your eyes. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he admits. 

Oh god, he already broke your heart once, was he here to just do it all over again? The thought causes your already battered heart to sink into your stomach. 

“I can’t pretend like I don’t need you anymore,” he continues, “like you’re not the only thing - the only person - in Colombia preventing me from losing myself,” he adds. 

The sudden truth bomb he’s dropped leaves you speechless. 

“I —” you start to say, but the broken silence is all it takes before Javi pulls you in closer, hugging your waist, dragging you up onto his lap, your knees straddling him. You try to ignore the uncomfortable press of his DEA badge digging into your inner thigh but secretly hope it leaves a mark. 

Fuck, it feels so good to be on him like this again. You shouldn’t feel this way, but you do. You rest one hand on his shoulder and instinctively run the other hand’s fingers through his hair. Old habits die hard. For the first time in a while, you feel a bit of relief; you wager he must feel the same by the hefty sigh that escapes his lips. 

“Javi – I don’t,” you pause, your words trembling, “I don’t want to get hurt again,” you say, allowing your hands to wrap around his torso and your head to fall into the crook of his neck. Hot tears begin to spill from your eyes and fall to the fabric of his shirt, the weight of your confession compounding with all of your other frustrations from the evening. 

“I know, baby. I just…fuck, I don’t know how to do this. I suck at the emotional,” he admits, gently patting the back of your hair and holding you close to him. He pauses before guiding your face up to look at him and continues, “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I was just scared; didn’t want to get hurt, or even worse, hurt you, but I realize now that I did, and I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong. Shit. I just… I need you, I need you more than I need air in my lungs,” he adds, and you hear the break in his voice. 

“You do?” you ask, hating how pathetic you must sound, your eyes puffy and cheeks wet from your crying.

“I’ll always be here for you, cariño, if you’ll let me. I know I don’t deserve it, but do you think you can forgive me?” he softly mutters. Seeing you trying to blink away the silent years trailing down your cheeks, he reaches up and swipes away at them with his thumb, and his hand stays there, cupping your face.  

You nod yes in response. 

Just like that, it’s almost as if everything were still the same; as if it were just you and him against it all. A thought of doubt crosses your mind, one saying this might just be temporary, your heart still unsure if you can trust him, but you allow yourself to cave into the feeling all the same. 

He holds you quietly against his chest, the pressure of his strong arm around you is soothing. You feel his cock begin to stiffen under you, and it causes something to stir in your lower belly. God, you want him. It was less than half an hour ago that you were coaxing yourself to orgasm with just the thought of him inside you.

Your chest begins to flush, and the heat your bodies generate together mingles with the warm air in the room around you. You slightly press off of him to find some reprieve from the burning surface of his chest and place your hand on it, his shirt slightly clinging to it as you do. 

You lean forward and press a soft, breathless kiss on his lips, one laced with the taste of tears. It’s delicate at first, as if to test the waters of your reunification after so much time apart, but it’s not before long that it deepens; his tongue exploring the recesses of your mouth, your mutual lust boiling to the surface. His hands glide down from your waist to your hips and he grips onto the delicious flesh there, inviting you to grind against him. 

Your hips roll on him, and you feel a sudden disdain for the clothing that clings to your skin like a second skin. The fabric is damp and heavy, and with each roll of your hips, it chafes against you. Your eyes tell you that you’re not the only one who’s uncomfortable, Javier’s face in a slight twist, one that screams both pleasure and pain. 

“You know, Colombia’s hot enough without the two of us making more of it,” you say, letting a little giggle out as you do, tilting your head back, letting your hair fall behind. Javier trails kisses down the side of your neck and then darts his tongue out to lick the hollow of your throat. The action causes your breath to hitch. 

“You’re right, Cariño, we really should do something about these layers, hmm,” he purrs, and you catch his drift. 

He releases both of his hands from your hips and helps you lift your tanktop over your head, your perky tits bounce in response and the friction of the fabric on your nipples causes them to stiffen. One of his hands finds its home on your hip, and the other comes to grab your breast. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, the feeling sending a tiny zap through you as he does. His mouth finds your chest and his tongue trails the valley of your breasts before slowly making its way over to the stiff peak of your other exposed nipple. A low, hungry growl leaves his chest, it’s a needy and desperate sound that goes straight to your cunt. 

“Javi –” you moan, “clothes,” It’s not a question, but a request, one he’s happy to oblige. 

He begins to undo the buttons of his linen shirt, and you watch in anticipation, his stiff cock under you making you impatient. His shirt joins yours on the floor, and you trail your hand down the expanse of his chest, noting the little freckles that pepper it; the small detail drives you to another level of impatience. 

You swing your leg over him, feet coming to the floor; a temporary but necessary adjustment so you can step out of your shorts and panties. You stand there before him, happily naked, pleased to be free of your cloth prison. The air is thick and hot, but it feels good to have so much exposed skin for the first time tonight. With his eyes dragging over every inch of your body, you eagerly watch back as his hands come to his waistline and he undoes his metal belt buckle. 

You look down and notice his boots are still on; you drop to your knees in front of him and you swear you hear his heart thump in excitement at what you might do. You look back up to lock eyes with him, and you reach down to his shoes and begin to undo the laces of his boots. Fuck, that’s definitely not what he thought you were going to do. With his feet free, his fingers fumble for the button and zipper of his denim jeans, and he slowly undoes them, lifting his hips slightly to let them over his ass as he drags them down, taking his briefs with them, until everything is off his body. 

Now both totally naked, you rise to take a seat on him, but his hand darts out to your shoulder as if to hold you in place on your knees. He spits into his free palm, and takes his heavy cock in hand, slowly gripping the length of it up and down. You salivate at the sight, the tip of him is red and weepy with pre-cum. 

“I think you look pretty good where you are, Hermosa,” he says, “always so pretty, especially like this,” he adds, still stroking himself. 

You love when he uses his Spanish on you, his words sending a surge of desire through you like a bolt of lightning, your body responding with intensity as the sticky tread of arousal pools between your legs.  

You inch closer to him, your hands finding his knees, and you gently pry them apart, creating just enough space for you between them. You look at him as if to say let me, and he releases his grip on himself, and you take over stroking his length. You lick your lips and position him at the entrance of your mouth. You place a soft kiss on the head of his cock, and smear the precum that’s gathered there on your lips like chapstick. 

You hum in delight as you sink down onto him, letting your jaw relax so you can take him deeper, savoring the salty taste of his skin. He gathers your sweaty hair into a makeshift ponytail and holds it back from your face, allowing you to work him without distraction. And god, you’re into it – the sounds are filthy, but your delighted little moans have Javier unraveling like a runaway spool of thread. You look up at him through your wet lashes and let out a little wink, an innocent act considering your practically sucking his sanity out through his dick and having fun with it. 

“Fuck, baby. Gonna have to stop or you’re gonna make me cum,” he says, holding the hair on your head taught as if to warn you to slow down, letting his head fall to the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling as if to think about something other than how good you’re making him feel. You let out a satisfied mew, and release him, a little pop sound fills the air as you do. 

“C’mere –,” he says, a little breathless and sweaty. You rise to stand, your knees pink and sore from the ground, and he stands to join you. At full height, you have to look up to see his face, and you feel him grab both of your hips and twist you around onto all fours, your upper body resting on the couch for support.  “My turn to taste you, Cariño,” he says, using his knee to nudge you, and encourage you to spread your legs open for him. 

With your tummy flat on the couch cushions, your ass is on full display, and he fucking loves it. Using his middle finger, he inserts it into your needy cunt, gently curling it to sweetly abuse your g-spot. The moans that escape your lips only encourage him further, a light chuckle follows when he reminds you that he’s only using one finger and that he’s just getting started with you. He uses his other hand and pushes your hips and ass deeper into the couch, while his one finger stays in place, gently rubbing the spongey texture of your g-spot without breaking, making you squirm under the bare minimum he’s providing you. 

You’re already wet, but once he thinks it’s enough, he extracts his finger, and uses his hands to lift your hips up, making you arch your back for him. He crouches down further to plant a tender kiss on your ass, biting into it very dimly, eliciting a little yelp from you in response. He slowly begins to move lower and lower, kissing the lines where your ass meets your thighs. He taps your cunt a few times with his thick fingers, each time getting a bit rougher, sending a stinging sensation through your whole body. The rough taps eventually become a full-on slap, and you move your hips in desperation, a mellow whimper escapes your lips begging him to give you what you need. He flattens his tongue, and moves it across the expanse of your dripping folds, lapping at you like you’re the cold refreshment he needs. 

The tip of his tongue finds your clit, and he stays there momentarily to give it a little suck before moving it upwards, licking the whole length of your pussy. He continues to do this a few more times, before finally stopping and focusing his attention on your now swollen clit. You’re barely breathing as his tongue relentlessly pleasures your needy little clit. He brings his forearms onto the back of your ass, and uses his thumbs to spread your outer lips open completely for him. 

“Javi – holy fuck,” you moan as he slides his greedy tongue inside you, moving it in and out as breathless moans continue to leave your lungs. 

“Taste so good, sweeter than the fuckin’ cholado,” he praises, and you’re nearly gone at his words.

He continues to eat at you, but releases a hand and then brings it back up, under you this time, as his fingers begin to circle smooth circles over your clit once more; your whole body begins to shake, it’s so much. You’re moaning and whimpering at the feeling of both his hands and his mouth on you. 

“Come for me – want you to soak my face,” he says, his encouragement is all you need and you snap. Your vision goes white, and your whole body tenses under his attention. He rides out your orgasm with you, ensuring no drop of your sweet juices goes to waste. Once your shaking has subsided, he lifts his chest and you readjust, bringing your weight to your forearms on the couch. 

“Javi, need you, god, please,” you’re all but practically begging for him. 

‘I’ve got you baby,” he coos, “gonna give you what you need,” he says as he strokes his cock a few times, and then places the tip at your slick and waiting hole. Both of his hands come to your hips, surely leaving little bruises under his strong grip. Your slick makes it easy for him to bury himself in you to the hilt, your greedy cunt taking every inch of him like it was your fucking job, like it was made for him. 

He begins a relentless pace, thrusting his cock deep inside of you, the obscene sounds of the clapping noises, a song made as a result of your wetness and his thighs, spurs you on. He reaches out and grips the back of your neck, and jerks you backward into him, forcing you to arch your back against him. The new position lets him take you deeper, harder. Holding you against his chest, he snakes a free hand around and his fingers find your clit once more. He makes soft circles on your clit, working you with each thrust until he once again has you climbing the ladder to your climax. 

“Just like that, you’re so perfect, Cariño, taking me so perfectly,” he praises, voice low. 

You squirm and babble something of the likes of gonna come under him, and he holds in place as you begin to unravel once more for him. Your hole contracts around him, your perky tits bouncing as he continues to fuck you through it. You’re so tight, your sweet sounds have his own orgasm not far off. 

Suddenly, without warning he stops fucking you and pulls out. You look back at him, brow creased, wondering why he stopped. 

The sight is one you’ll remember till the day you die, Javi all sweaty curls, ragged breaths, hard and throbbing cock in hand, shiny with your slick, looking at you through needy brown doe eyes. 

“Why – why’d you stop,” you ask, breathless. 

“Turn around, Hermosa. Lay on the couch. Want to look you in the eyes as I cum,” he rasps. 

You do as he says, and spread your legs open for him. Within seconds, he’s back on you, filling you up to the base of him. The dark hairs at the base of him tickle your swollen clit as he rolls his hips into you. A tingling warmth pools in his belly and surges through every sensitive nerve on his body, accompanied by the surge of blood that rushes to every corner of his flesh, his response making it obvious that his release is imminent. 

His hips slow, and he lets out a rough moan, spilling inside of you. He pauses there, and you feel him gently pulsate and twitch as your walls drain every last bit of cum inside him. 

He collapses on top of you, working to catch his breath, an exhausted mix of sex, heat, and general tiredness from the restless night. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, and intertwine your fingers around his now full-on wet locks and trace small patterns onto his back. You stay there like that, in your sticky embrace of sex and emotion, until your heart rates return to normal and your breaths find a manageable pattern. 

He slips out, bringing with him a glob of cum that pools on the cushion beneath you. He leans back on the other arm of the small couch and watches as he slowly pools out of you. “Mmm, sure do love watching me drip out of you,” his gaze doesn’t move from the filthy sight of it.

He leans forward to drag his pointer finger through your folds, causing your body to twitch at the unexpected sensation on your tender clit. He slightly presses the tip of his finger into you, and his cock twitches and begins to swell like it’s ready to go again. He drags his finger out, now coated with a mix of you and him, and he brings it up to your lips. 

“Taste us,” he says. You open your mouth to welcome the cum-coated finger onto your tongue. You savor the taste of the mix of you, an overly salty, heady mix of sweat and semen.

Once satisfied, he removes his finger and leans back once more. 

In your fucked out state, you tilt your head toward the coffee table, noticing that the remaining cholado has turned into a sticky, syrupy mess. 

“Sad that’s melted, I could really use something cold right about now,” you say as you reach your arms up and try to secure your wet hair into a little bun on the top of your head. 

“How about a cold shower,” Javi offers, a smile on his face. He stands and offers his palm to you for the second time tonight. 

Without saying anything, and without hesitation this time, you place your hand in his, and he pulls you off the couch and into his arms. His chest firm against yours, he brings both of his palms to cup your face in an embrace. He pauses momentarily before leaning down to place his lips against yours. 

“And then maybe some breakfast?” He says, tilting his head to the side, signaling to the window. 

The sun is now rising, bringing with it what you can only imagine is going to be another tortuous day. 

Well, almost as torturous.

At least now you have each other. 

Although you’re pretty confident you won’t be getting any sleep tomorrow night, either. 

END

Tagging some moots: @darkheartgatita @elegantduckturtle @alltheglitterandtheroar @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @reddedmiller @morallyinept @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @secretelephanttattoo @ruinmepedro @papipascalispunk @dins-riduur-anthe @untamedheart81 @planet-marz1 @pascalpvnk @elvinaa @joeldjarin @javiscigarette @cavillscurls @bastardmandennis @janaispunk @endlessthxxghts

Oh hey! You made it to the end. Cool. Thanks for reading. Since you're here, I'll pass on a reminder that I'm just a horny little wannabe fic writer trying to make her way on this hell site and write things that make people turned on happy. Likes and comments are wonderful and much appreciated, but reblogs are really what counts in making people see this, especially for smaller blogs like mine. If you like this, please consider reblogging.

#javier pena narcos #javier pena smut #pedrohub #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javi pena #javier pena fanfiction #narcos #javier pena x you

[nhasablogg]

I guess you're all mine when you're sleeping in this bed with me

Fandom: Red White and Royal Blue

Characters: Alex/Henry

Summary: Henry needs Alex to tickle his back most nights to fall asleep, until the tickling becomes a little too ticklish for him.

A/N: Prompted by @iamawolfstarsimp, thank you! It's been four years since I read the book, so please forgive anything that might seem out of character. I hope you enjoy! I can't wait for the movie!

Words: 1k

Alex enjoyed sleeping with Henry - sleeping with as in sharing his bed, fighting for the covers, waking up to his bedhead and kisses - for three main reasons.

The first one was because he adored how His Royal Highness would blink up at him sleepily each morning and smile, actions he did on instinct before his brain caught up with his body and made him try to play it cool, much to Alex’s amusement.

The second was because of how Henry would press his nose into Alex’s throat, nuzzling him in such an adorably human way that Alex would laugh incredulously each time (also maybe because it tickled, a little).

The third and biggest reason was the lengths Henry would go to to get Alex to “help him fall asleep”, as he called it. Usually it involved many distractions, but sometimes it really was just Alex scratching his back until he felt him finally relax under his touch. And while it could be annoying, being yanked out of sleep to be of service, there was something so delicious about a literal prince needing his help with something so mundane.

(They hadn’t talked about why he couldn’t sleep yet - Alex reckoned they would have to one day.)

Henry was melting under his touch that night. Alex hadn’t allowed him to toss and turn for too long before he’d dutifully reached out, fingertips sliding skillfully over the skin, following each bump and curve, up and down, back and forth, and Henry was shivering maybe because he was being a little too light on the hand.

“Is it helping?” he mumbled, eyes closed and much too close to sleep again, hence the light touch, but Henry only grunting in response made him instantly perk up. It had only been a moment and Henry never fell asleep that quickly.

He had his eyes wide open when Alex opened his, looking anything but relaxed. “What?”

“You’re asking me?” Alex blinked once, twice. “Are you okay?”

“Of course.”

“All right.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I just-” Had Alex imagined it? “Nothing.”

“Well, keep going then.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex resumed his petting, feeling Henry tense up under his hand before relaxing, only this time he seemed to tense up again almost immediately. It made Alex want to snatch his hand away, give into indignation or confusion since it would be so easy to get upset over it had he been in the mood, but all he did was sit up and force Henry to look at him.

“It’s nothing,” Henry said, sitting up as well, both of their bodies radiating heat in the already too hot room. “It’s stupid.”

“Well, it can’t be both.”

“Funny.”

“You know you can talk to me, right?” He wondered if it had anything to do with how Henry would lay awake half the night sometimes, staring at the ceiling until Alex pulled him close. “If something’s bothering you.”

“I know.” Henry’s face softened. It was ridiculous how soft he could be sometimes when he looked at him. “I promise you it’s nothing serious.”

“But it’s something.”

“It’s embarrassing?”

“Oh? Now I really gotta hear it.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?” The sun had set hours ago and Henry had flown in from a brief visit back home only the day prior. He was tired. They both were.

“Fine.” Alex leaned closer and pressed his lips to his temple, smiling when Henry hummed happily. “But if you act weird again I’ll stop petting you.”

“I won’t act weird, I promise.” For some reason he was avoiding Alex’s gaze.

Alex tried to be more aware of how he was touching him when he resumed, what part of his back that made Henry tense up, what spot made his breath hitch. He pretended he didn’t notice it when it started again, realizing how hard Henry seemed to be trying to stop it, and that was when it hit him.

“Oh my god, your back is ticklish.” It wasn’t the first time Alex had discovered a sensitive spot, but it surprised him that Henry still seemed to be able to keep certain tickle spots from him, even after all this time. He was nearly offended.

“It’s not,” Henry said weakly, but when Alex purposefully poked his lower back he let out a sound so delicious that Alex did it again just to hear it.

“That doesn’t sound like a non-ticklish back to me,” he said with a grin and Henry groaned, all too aware of how Alex never let things like these go.

“You’re worse than me,” Henry reminded him in vain, for Alex might be worse but Henry was never able to turn the tables once Alex got him.

“Mmm, at least I’m not pretending otherwise.” That wasn’t true. Henry had to tickle him to pieces three separate times before Alex even admitted to being ticklish.

Henry tried to flip over to shield his back, which would be kind of stupid since his belly and ribs were death spots, but Alex enjoyed the prospect of a new spot more and was on top of him within seconds, knees locking around his hips as he started laughing when Henry swore.

“Get off,” he growled, but the giggle that escaped simultaneously made his words sound very unthreatening. “Alex, I promise you I will get revenge.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex poked his back again, this time aiming for just below his shoulder blade. “Hmm, it seems only certain spots are ticklish. Let’s figure out which ones, shall we?”

“Oh my god, please, do-hon’t! Alex, I swear to-”

“Shoulders? Really, Henry?”

“Shut up!”

“Lift your arms a bit for me, darling.”

“You’re so fucking annoying- stop.”

“Back ribs, huh? How about the back of your hips? Let me try that lower back again while I’m down there.”

You’d think this would keep Henry from asking for back tickles in the future, but it didn’t. All it did was make their nights gigglier and Henry fall asleep quicker due to exhaustion.

#tickling #ticklish!henry #firstprince #firstprince fic #alex/henry #rwrb #rwrb fic #n writes #tickle fic #I guess you're all mine when you're sleeping in this bed with me

[criceofpain]

swim | sim jaeyun (edited and reposted)

summary: you invite jake for a quick little splash...

pairing: jake x fem!reader

genre: smut, a tinge of fluff at the very end

word count: 1326

warnings: usage of pet names ("daddy" and "baby"), semi-public sex, fellatio, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, minimal impact play

“Still can’t sleep?” your boyfriend whispers from the other line, almost sending shivers to your whole body.

It was 2 in the morning. You lay flat on your bed, restlessly staring at the plain white ceiling above you. The two cups of coffee you downed while pulling an all-nighter for your final papers somehow slipped away from your thoughts, now leaving you wondering why your eyes were wide awake at this hour. Even listening to Jake’s soft voice from the other line was to no avail, not making you budge a bit.

“I'm kinda bored right now, baby.” you mutter, a hand slowly making its way to your chest. You wished it was his. “Did I disturb your peaceful sleep, hmm?”

“Nah, I'm still kinda hyper.” Jake replies, followed by a small yawn which you respond to with a small giggle. Cutie. You close your eyes and give one of your breasts a gentle squeeze, eliciting a small whimper. He chuckles in amusement. “Is my baby in need of care right now?”

You whimper again, this time louder. A hand sneaks under your thin silk shorts, feeling for that spot where you needed him the most. you shut your eyes again. Images of him ramming his cock inside your tight cunt, body glistening with sweat, head thrown back formed in your head as you rub your clit with your rough finger pad. You draw out a long deep breath that is purposely loud so that your boyfriend can hear it from the other line.

“Stop touching yourself.” Jake says sternly, almost like a whisper. “I'm sneaking out. Don't piss me off, baby.”

He abruptly ends the call, and you freeze. Instead of feeling as if he left you dry and high, your chest swells with anticipation as your plan on getting your man to fuck you in the middle of the night worked.

*

Jake has snuck out of his room and to the back entrance of your residence, and what welcomes him is a sight worth seeing.

He spots you sitting by the swimming pool with you looking down at the water and your feet submerged in it. Seeing your whole self drenched, a tiny gasp leaves his mouth upon seeing you only in your nightgown and nothing else. He was confused why you would suddenly go swimming at this hour, but the way the silk fabric clung to your curves distracted him from such thoughts. The mild migraine he was having gradually subsided, however, a hard-on started to form in his pants at that moment. 

“Haven’t touched myself yet.” you whisper to him. He chuckled, taking off his shirt and sweats. you grin at the sight of the tent that’s formed under his boxers, lowering yourself in the water. “Can I get daddy started?” you whisper, running a cold hand up his clothed cock.

He replies with a guttural moan, looking down at your pleading eyes. Fuck. He wouldn’t be able to resist you pleading for him.

“I'll take that as a yes.” you giggle, pulling down his boxers, setting his aching erection free. You marvel at the sight of his tip, and you immediately press your warm tongue against it.

“Ah, fuck.” he sighed, placing a gentle hand behind your head, pushing his cock in your mouth further. You grip the handrail as you tried to keep a steady pace, and your other hand was about to touch your aching sex, not until your boyfriend pulls it and places it in his thigh. “I told you to not touch yourself, didn’t i?”

You pull away from his cock, licking his tip again. “Alright, grumpy pants.” you pout against him, stroking him with your free hand.

Jake was nearing his high when he suddenly lifts you out of the pool and pulls your nightgown off of you, revealing your glistening naked body that he so wanted to fill with marks. He lays you flat down in the cold, pebbled concrete and spreads your legs, revealing the spot where you needed him the most. Without a word, he latches his tongue on your clit and pushes two fingers inside your pussy. You react with the most beautiful whimper he has heard in his life.

“So wet for me already.” he smirked, circling his tongue along the sensitive nub. Your legs shake as he proceeds with his actions, a hand going down to grip his hair. “Please, I need you… I need more.”

His free hand reaches up your breasts, feeling for your perked nipples. Once he’s got a grip of it, he pinches it. The feel of his rough fingertips along your breasts has you stifling moans. A hand instinctively reaches to cup your mouth but Jake unfortunately pulls it away. You didn’t want your neighbors judging you the next day.

“Let me hear it, Y/N. '' His fingers moved at a faster pace, only for him to retract it again. You whine at the loss of contact, not until he practically shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you taste your own arousal. “Such a good girl for me.”

He sweeps you off of the concrete, and props himself to the patio chair. The sight of him manspreading with his cock straight up was enough to make you come right then and there. “You look so fuckable right now, Jakey.” you blurt out, still gazing at him as he gives himself some slow strokes.

“So do you, baby.” he laughs softly, motioning you to come closer. “Ride me.”

You immediately get on top of him, slowly pushing his cock inside you, letting him fill you up with his length and girth. You draw out a loud moan, much to Jake's satisfaction. He watches in amusement as his cock disappears inside your tight cunt, causing himself to groan.

“Move.” he commands, to which you immediately your hips. The way his tip hits your sweet spot has you breathing sporadically and clenching all around him. 

“My baby was so bored, huh?” he mutters under his breath, slapping one of your ass cheeks with his strong hand. you cry out his name as he watches your breasts bounce in the dim patio lights. “Couldn’t keep her hands to herself, wanting to be fucked so bad.”

You find yourself mindlessly nodding at his statements, throwing your head back as he squeezes your breasts harshly. “You want my babies so bad, huh? Wanna be filled up by me?” 

You vigorously nod again as you place a hand on his chest, keeping yourself from losing balance. His thrusts become more rushed and uneven as you were both reaching your highs. you throw your body against him, lock your lips with his in a heated kiss. 

You tighten your grip on his shoulders desperately as you feel a knot tightening in your stomach. “I'm so close, Jake.” you moan loudly, feeling his seed inside you spurt out, eventually triggering your orgasm.

Your hips slow down as you both ride out your highs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you feel his warm hands along your spine. The rise and fall of his chest was like a hammock rocking you to sleep, but you try your best to stay awake and marvel at his beauty.

“You wanna go skinny dipping?” Jake suggests, pulling out his now flaccid cock from you. 

You lift your head up and give him a questioning look. “Don’t you have, like, a schedule for tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head and places a kiss on your forehead. “the whole soccer team can go fuck themselves. I'm staying here with you.”

You were genuinely surprised at his change of attitude, but you shake it off and just let him make up the lost time for you. “I love you, babes.”

“I love you more, baby.” he replies, carrying you to the outdoor shower as you rest in his chest.

a/n: proofreading this work was half nostalgic and half embarrassing tbh. this was the very first smut fic i posted upon joining enhablr and reading through it now reminds me of how much i've grown 🤩 however, i did make some changes... and i hope you guys still love it!

NSFW TAGLIST [OPEN]: @thots4hee @jaylaxies @ddeonuism @jojayke @vernonluvs @puphee @hee-pster @forjongseong @jaeyunsz @shu-ramyeonz (send an ask or dm to be added!)

© criceofpain on tumblr, 2021

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enhypen smut #enhypen jake #enhypen jake smut #jake smut #jake sim #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake sim #enhypen fluff #enhypen jake fluff #enhypen hard hours

[captaincryolicious]

City Lights

➳ Alhaitham x gn!reader

➳ Oneshot ; 3k

➳ Kinda comfort? ; Reader has insomnia

Alhaitham has a little surprise in store for you when he finds you out on the streets of Sumeru City at night. [22.10.2022]

Zep's Note ; This is written while I couldn't sleep so I'm sorry for any mistakes and stuff that maybe doesn't make sense,, I'm so tired but I HAD to write for this man, I'm down horrendously ㅠㅠ.

content under the cut | masterlist

You weren’t sure what it was that kept the peaceful cradle of slumber from finding you nearly every night. It was as if it evaded you deliberately, the obstacles something as mundane as sleep had to take in order to reach you simply too big. Every night you were left to toss and turn in your bed. You were weary, head empty and your eyes stinging with sheer tiredness. But sleep didn’t come. Instead you were left wide awake, staring at the ceiling as you desperately waited for slumber to take you away. 

But it wouldn’t happen, you knew all too well.

It was as if you were left to suffer when other people found peace in the night. You were deprived of said serenity, and wondered why in Teyvat you couldn’t just sleep. Every night seemed to be there to fight the same endless battle, one that you were bound to lose, anyway. So why did you continue to indulge in this everlasting brawl with slumber? There was no victory, or so it seemed. 

You heaved out another sigh, the nth of tonight. Laced with sheer annoyance, it came out more as a growl and less as a puff of air that simply escaped your lips. You turned around, kicking off the duvet that covered your restless body. You’ve had more than enough. Every night you lay awake; it was unfair. You didn’t feel like being stuck in your bed any longer, for you felt like a prisoner, confined and smothered. So you got up, swinging your legs over the edge of the mattress until your feet touched the cold ground.

No plan, no destination. You didn’t care to check the time. You simply got dressed, taking only the necessities such as your keys, before heading out of your room. The wooden floorboards creaked under your tentative footsteps, but fortunately there was no one in the house who could be awoken by the sound. You lived alone, the residence would be vacant as soon as you walked out of the front door. Since summer had passed, and the nights had grown significantly colder, you grabbed a coat and shrugged it on. After slipping on a pair of shoes, you deemed yourself ready, flicking off the light and stepping into the darkness of the night. The door shut behind you with a thud and a click. 

You were outside, with only one goal in mind; tiring yourself out. Of course you were well aware of the fact that going outside was more likely to have the opposite effect, for the crisp air would chase away the few crumbs or slumber in your being until you were wide awake again. But exhaustion had to catch up with you eventually. Maybe if you just kept walking around until the morning would come by, you’d grow so physically tired that you’d finally be able to collapse onto your bed and pass out. It sounded nice. 

Every night you just lay awake, wondering thoroughly why you still bothered to climb into your bed. Hah, as if you carried with you any expectations of falling asleep when you cuddled up under your blankets. The thought made you smile bitterly. 

More and more often, you spent your nights under the sapphire blanket that was the midnight sky. Being out in the open was many times better than being suffocated by your own perpetual frustration. 

Plus, Sumeru City was night after midnight. Quiescent and serene, the empty streets filled with naught but silence. No merchants promoting their goods avidly, no children playing, no people talking. Only a few Eremite members of the Corps of Thirty stood guard here and there across the city, but they regarded you with a quick nod and didn’t bother you. It was nice to roam around the city like this, and you came out at night often to seek peace. The wind rustled the leaves that swayed on their branches, animals that dwelled the night scurried around in nooks and crannies, startled by your footsteps. Sometimes the rustling in the bushes made you a little uneasy, but you pushed away the feeling. Nothing but a few animals who went out at night, just like you.

You felt better now that you were on the streets. More free, less frustrated. You breathed in and out, relishing in the crisp air. You noticed how you weren’t feeling at all tired, yet the signs of exhaustion were so clear. Half of your footsteps weren’t as coordinated as you ambled over the pavement. You felt groggy, your head sometimes spinning as you swayed a few steps left or right unwillingly – like a drunkard, except that you drank nothing at all. Occasionally you would see things from the corners of your eyes, movements that were nothing but hallucinations that came forth from your sleep deprived state. It was so clear that your mind was begging for sleep but you couldn’t provide. Not yet. 

     “Y/N? What a peculiar hour to be out in town.” 

There was wonder and amusement in the familiar voice that greeted you. Lowering your pace, you turned around slowly in order not to trigger another wave of dizziness. You had recognized the voice, but your dazed mind needed to see the face it belonged to before a look of recognition crossed your features.

     “Alhaitham,” you greeted back, failing to hide the surprise you felt upon finding the Akademiya’s Scribe behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

     “I had some business to attend to,” was all he explained. 

You nodded. His answer was quite secretive, lacking any details. You had expected no less from Alhaitham, for secretive was one of the adjectives that described him best. Hence you didn’t pry, and simply offered the man a tired smile. 

     “I see.” 

     “May I ask what you are doing here?” Alhaitham inquired, his turquoise eyes searching your face as if he could find the answer there. It was probably true; the permanent bags under your eyes would inform him of your insomnia right away.

     “I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately,” you sighed. “So I often go out at night because I don't know what else to do.” 

You used your hand to cover up a massive yawn that stretched your jaw. You were growing tired, finally, but now that you ran into Alhaitham, you suddenly had yet another reason to linger outside just a little longer. 

     “And you roam the streets until you feel tired enough to fall asleep?” the man guessed. “Are you aware that Sumeru City isn’t exactly the safest place to be at night?” 

     “Why?” you asked. “It’s guarded by the Eremites.” 

Alhaitham remained silent, but the look that crossed his face painted a thousand words. You figured he wasn’t too fond of the desert dwellers and dropped the subject. 

     “It just looks pretty at night,” you mused. “It brings some peace to my pestered mind and it helps me grow drowsy enough to catch some sleep when the morning rolls around. Usually.” 

The tall male hummed, as if he just thought of something.

     “If you like Sumeru City that much, I might be able to show you something you haven’t seen before.” 

Your curiosity was piqued. You lightly tilted your head to the side, eager to find out what he was talking about. Even though you were pretty exhausted, and possibly able to fall asleep if you were to try now, you refused to miss out on the opportunity this night suddenly bestowed upon you. 

     “Well, show me,” you said eagerly. 

     “It’s a bit of a walk,” Alhaitham warned you. “You look like you can barely stand straight.” 

     “I’m fine,” you reassured him. Dizzy, but fine. 

     “Good,” he commented. “Let’s go then.” 

He briskly started walking, and you followed after him. He took you through the streets of the city you lived in. While you admired what you saw around you, he walked silently and resolutely and you sometimes struggled to keep up. No one spoke a word. A part of you was dying to talk to him, but you wouldn’t know what to say. Alhaitham was such an enigma, seemingly so far out of reach. You were surprised that you even had him in your orbit. 

The man led you up the paved walkways that sloped upward alongside the giant tree in the center of the city. The gentle upward slope tired you, but you persevered out of sheer curiosity. Where was he taking you? Your legs protested as you went higher, but it was as if a magnetic force pulled you after him. He had to slow down significantly and the look on his face when he glanced over his shoulder to look at you gave away that he expected you to fall asleep any moment. 

Despite your utter exhaustion, you eventually caught on to where you were going. The familiar pathway guided you to the grand academy of Sumeru. Your tired eyes widened.

     “But the Akademiya grounds are prohibited at night,” you pointed out, coming to an abrupt halt. You gazed at Alhaitham questioningly.

     “Not when I’m with you,” the Scribe replied. “I’m allowed to come and go as I please, and since I took you here, so are you.” 

That made so much sense.

You nodded and followed the male again. It was strange to see the Akademiya so abandoned. Usually these pathways were crowded with students and scholars and the whole area just felt hollow without them. If it wasn’t for Alhaitham walking ahead of you, you would’ve gotten the chills. Still, you gazed around curiously. How often did you have the chance to roam here at night? It was a first for you. The tall building climbed higher and higher, tall and intimidating yet still beautiful in the dark. Even now, far past midnight, there was still light behind some of the windows. You weren’t at all surprised that even at this hour some people were still studying. It was Sumeru after all, the nation of wisdom. The people here were going far to gain more knowledge; pulling an all-nighter was merely one of the milder things they were willing to do. 

     “Archons, where are you taking me?” you murmured.

     “You will see,” came the simple reply. “We’ll be there shortly.” 

You climbed higher, and at some point you were dragging your feet. Continuous yawns pestered you, and the magnetic force that initially had pulled you swiftly after him had worn off. You had to take every step by yourself now, and you were starting to regret coming along. Just what was it that Alhaitham wanted to show you? Why did you have to cross the forbidden Akademiya grounds in order to get there? Curiosity was the only fire that fueled you to push onward.

     “Look at me.” Alhaitham spoke as soon as you reached one of the upper balconies. You obliged, your bleary eyes resting upon his stoic face. 

     “And now I want you to slowly turn around.” 

You did, turning on your feet ever so slowly. Afore you stretched out a wide panorama view on Sumeru City, under the vast and cloudy night sky. Your draw dropped in utter awe, for the sight was beautiful as it unfolded like a still canvas painting. It portrayed the empty town from a bird’s eye view, the darkness that blanketed the streets littered with stars that were the streetlights. Faint moonlight, peeking through the deck of clouds, brought a calm hue to the scenery, painting the rooftops a pale white as they reflected the illumination from the celestial body. It was a sight so tranquil, and the final bits of frustration left your being. 

     “This is…” was all you managed to bring out. You were rendered speechless, and it wasn’t only because you were dead tired. 

Alhaitham came to stand next to you, his hands finding the intricate balustrade between you and the mighty long fall. His face was relaxed, free of the stoic mask he perpetually put on. He looked younger, more open, as his turquoise eyes gazed out over the city below. For a moment, you couldn’t keep your gaze off him, and he either didn’t notice or he deliberately ignored it. You pursed your lips to stop a smile from forming. Alhaitham was handsome, you quietly admitted to yourself, and the beautiful scenery ahead of you barely had anything on him. 

     “I wanted to take you here and show you the view,” he bluntly admitted. “I often come here when something is bothering me.” 

He looked at you, and that was your cue to look away. Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly you found yourself having a lot of questions. Why did he take you here, when it was basically his special place? Why was he so willing to spend these nightly hours with you? And the most prominent question of all, what was it between you and Alhaitham? 

Strangers that ran into each other too often to be considered strangers. Still, you weren’t much more than that. You barely knew anything about him, just like he knew next to nothing about you. But somehow, you ended up in each other’s orbit, spinning around one another and unable to leave. This night was a prime example of how it always went. You found each other by mere coincidence, only to be rendered unable to simply walk away. So often did you end up together, but never before had it been in the vulnerable hour of the night. 

It enhanced the air of mystery that hung around him, and the secretive man only looked more attractive. There was something about him that lured you in. Would it be the same for him? You couldn’t tell. His demeanor never gave away anything. 

     “So this is like your special place,” you guessed after staring in silence for a while. “It’s so peaceful up here. You surely know how to make the best of your authority to come up here at night.” 

     “Hm, I wouldn’t go as far as calling it special, but go ahead if that’s what you deem fit for this place,” Alhaitham commented. 

     “I would come up here a lot, if only I was allowed to be here,” you mumbled. “It’s the perfect spot to wind down on nights where insomnia takes the best of me.” 

     “I can take you here more often,” the Scribe offered, his tone as even as always. “If you don’t mind my company, of course. If you rather spend your nights in solitude, I’ll let you.” 

     “No, it’s fine,” you quickly urged. “I would love to.” 

Alhaitham hummed, tearing his gaze away from the scenery to narrow his eyes at you.

     “Now tell me, Y/N. Aren’t you tired?” 

     “Exhausted,” you tiredly smiled. “And you?” 

     “You shouldn’t be concerned about that,” the male dismissed. “Let’s get you back to your house. You look like you can pass out any moment.” 

Honestly, you felt that way, too. Your knees felt wobbly, your sight blurred over more than once and the strange hallucinations hadn’t ceased – they just didn’t bother you anymore now that the Akademiya’s Scribe was with you. But you knew he was right. Your nightly expedition had served its purpose and you were more than ready to go to sleep. You’ve spent a couple of hours outside in the night, and especially the last hour or-so you spent on the upper balcony awakened bits and pieces of slumber within you. 

Finally. 

     “But what if I’m concerned about that?” you countered.

     “That’s a wasted worry,” Alhaitham concluded. “Let’s go.” 

His hand landed on the small of your back to urge you to walk gently, and you would’ve freaked out by the sudden gesture if you hadn’t been so dead tired. Fortunately for you, the darkness did well in hiding the blush that flushed your cheeks, but you let it happen. Who were you to complain? Even though your entire body felt heavy, his gentle urge made you feel like you were afloat for a few steps. 

But the rest of the way down was tedious, and you felt ashamed of yourself as you nearly tripped over your own feet multiple times. Alhaitham was patient, matching his pace to the way you ambled over the paved streets. Was it only patience that slowed him down, or was he tired as well? He had to be, right? It was after midnight for him just as much. Though he didn’t show any signs of fatigue as he walked a little ahead of you. Alhaitham was, once again, a mystery to you. 

He walked you all the way back to your house. To you, it was a miracle how you even managed to get there in your tired daze. But you did it, feeling all too relieved now that you were in the vicinity of your bed. 

     “Catch some sleep,” Alhaitham said. “You look dead.”

     “Gee, thanks,” you yawned. “You, too.” 

The male quirked a brow, and you quickly corrected yourself.

     “Go rest, I mean,” you brought out. “You don’t look dead.”

     “Of course I don’t,” he agreed. “Goodnight, Y/N. Until next time.” 

The male offered you a curt nod before he turned around and walked away from you. You watched his back for a moment, considering to call after him to bid him goodnight as well. But you knew your neighbors wouldn’t quite appreciate that, so you remained quiet, taking the key from your pocket and unlocking your front door. Oh, as much as you liked your nightly expedition with Alhaitham, you were glad to finally be home. You stumbled inside, shrugging off your coat and slipping out of your shoes before you wandered into your bedroom. 

Utterly tired out as you were, you collapsed onto your bed and buried yourself on your duvet. Your mind slowly went still, shutting down until only a pair of turquoise eyes occupied your mental images. You smiled, silently thanking Alhaitham for the pleasant night he had brought you. 

And then you finally fell asleep.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham genshin impact #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham imagine

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER FOUR: WHAT'S IN OUR SYSTEM

↢ chapter three | series masterlist | chapter five ↣

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [12K]

warnings: no use of y/n, talks / mentions of mental spiral, fluff overload (everyone buckle up and prepare to be mush by the end)

summary: you and steve find yourselves entangled in something else besides your feelings. all of the fun things — skin and bones, breakfast and laughter, goodbyes and hellos. it’s dizzying, like a drug that flows your systems and should have the both of you wondering if it’s in any of your best interests. it’s not worth denying or thinking other wise… you both know you’ve made promises, now it’s up to you both to keep them.

It’s the same room and the same bed Steve had been spending most of his life sleeping in. Worn out and faded gray bed sheets that were long overdue to be replaced and pillows that lost their fluffiness years ago. His bed was nothing special, just the place where he would burrow under after all his hardest days and battles.

But these days his bed was just a place of hiding — somewhere he would go to in order to pass time hoping he could seek comfort even when he knew he couldn’t.

He’d lay and stare up at the ceiling waiting for his parents to drive off so he could finally go down and make himself some food without being victim to a lengthy lecture.

He’d even bunch up the blankets, using them to cover his ears and drown out his parents arguing, which was usually over something so stupid that could’ve been solved with a simple ‘sorry’ or if one of them finally kept quiet and let the other speak.

He managed to master the art of forcing himself to fall asleep so he could escape it, but it always seemed to follow him in his dreams… all the pent up anxiety about the future and how scared he was that he’d turn out just like his parents.

Stuck in the cycle and forcing everyone to walk on eggshells around him.

It was only really a comfortable bed when they weren’t around, but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t lonely.

Hearing absolute silence was just as torturous as hearing his mom and dad fight.

A beautiful home, fully furnished that housed the picture perfect family only for it to be amounted to a place that didn’t feel like home at all. What a waste of space that had so much potential for a joyous family to actually live and create memories in. All it was now was filled with loneliness and nightmares.

But there were always those rare occasions where he could dream up a life that didn’t feel so lonely. A place with someone who he cherished and who felt like home to him — more than any furniture or square footage could make him feel.

Last night was one of those nights and only this time he realized it wasn’t a dream.

Through his sluggish eyes, he could still see the indentation in the shape of you from the night before. The little details of the way your arms had laid against the sheets and how your body shifted during the night. Your… his pillow etched with the silhouette of your head and your hair that sprawled over it.

The covers were partly thrown off to the side with you nowhere to be found. And as Steve weakly drew them up just to steal two more minutes of the morning warmth, he was greeted with a big waft of everything you.

The two minutes in bed didn’t seem enticing anymore. He just wanted to get to you now.

Vanilla filling his senses and coaxing his eyes wide awake.

Jasmine brightened up his energy as he made the bed.

Sweet peaches calmed his limbs as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror and got himself freshened up for the day.

It should’ve worried him, the way that you could’ve called Nance and have her bring you to Joyce and Hop’s to get your car and head home. Leaving him without saying goodbye or talking about what happened last night. But the anxiety didn’t seem to run through his veins when it came to you or this… he felt safe and tranquil knowing you were still here.

You had put his mind at ease, promising you would be.

Last night he emerged from the bathroom, bare chested with a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his waist. His room was ill-lit, drapes blocking out most of the moonlight, letting only his weak lamp gleam up the corner of the bedroom.

You were already settled and comfortable, fast asleep in his bed. Covers brought up to your shoulders and your knees tucked up, curled like a baby snoozing soundly — or so Steve thought.

He smiled at the sight, content to know that at least you found his bed to be peaceful enough to sleep in. One hand came down to pull the covers up higher over you to keep you warm through the night. His palm lingering over your collarbone, watching and feeling you breathe in and out softly… the memory ingrained in his mind forever now.

“Night, sweet thing.”

It was a muted murmur, the last thing he was supposed to say before he switched off the light and headed downstairs to take the couch, but you had responded.

“Stay,” you stirred softly, shifting against the blankets as you picked up a throaty chuckle. Steve huffing out something about how you almost scared him to death.

But he grinned a tiny bit, crouching down to move the damp strands of hair that covered your cheeks. “You’ve been up this whole time?” he asked quietly, not wanting to invade the tranquil space.

“Mhm,” you crooned, peeping open your eyes to see him through your doziness.

His hair was still wet, itty-bitty beads of water sprinkling his exposed shoulders and the furs on his chest. He looked refreshed, but it was clear that he needed to get some much needed rest.

“We can share the bed, tonight,” you said faintly, bringing one of your hands up from beneath the covers to wrap around his wrist, “please?”

He swore you could feel his pulse in your touch, not that he minded. It felt so raw and so real different from anything he’s ever felt before. Everything about it felt almost sacred, like something out of his wildest dreams just feeling like he was needed by someone when he knew deep down it was him needing you all this time.

“Okay.” He nodded without faltering. He was met with you smiling sleepily at him, finally letting up on his wrist while you moved over to make space for him.

The lamp clicked off, cascading the room with complete darkness as he pulled back the covers and got in beside you. He was careful, putting a few inches between the both of you not knowing if closing it was something you were comfortable with.

“You can come closer,” you whispered quietly, letting your fingertips skim over his arm, letting him know he was alright to do so.

It was almost like second nature, his body drifting closer to you as you closed the remaining millimeters and draped your arms over his. You were like a bear clinging to him, yearning for his warmth and he was pleased to provide it to you on nights like this and forever, for that matter.

“Comfortable?” He chuckled bemused, looking down and seeing your head smushed under his pillow, seeking the proximity the same way he was.

“Extremely.” You sighed contently, breathing him in as your eyes fluttered shut.

Steve’s bed would never be the same, and it’s a sudden pang in his heart when he realized it because now you’ve turned it into a sacred oasis that he never wants to leave.

He swallowed nervously, letting his thumb trace circles over your shoulder. “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Me too…very very happy.” You replied sleepily, letting your head nod against his skin letting the sleep consume you.

Steve didn’t want to ruin the moment, to sound desperate when you were trying to fall asleep and so should he. But he just had to ask… to make sure this wasn’t all in his head even when it was so delicate already.

“Will you be here in the morning?” His voice was shaky, trying to keep it stable and composed.

You didn’t waste another second, more awake than ever, as you opened your eyes and smiled up at him.

“I promise.”

That night there wasn’t any silence or his parents fighting — no agonizing sounds keeping him from feeling like this wasn’t a holy place. It was your breathing, gentle inhales and exhales as he watched your chest rise, wondering if you were dreaming about him. With each passing second that he listened to your breathing, taking it in like a lullaby to his ears, he let his eyes float closed, drawing him somewhere where it was just you and him. 

His footsteps echoed on the wooden stairs that he jogged down, turning towards the living room and into the kitchen where he was met with your back facing him.

You were still dressed in his clothes, a pair of striped boxer shorts rolled over your waistline and an old faded Hawkins track team t-shirt — they both looked better on you than it ever did him.

His cheeks rose, lips tugging into a smile as he approached you. His arms rested on either side of the counter, caging you in, “morning, early bird.”

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” you teased with a giggle, leaning into the peck that he pressed on your cheek before turning to him and frowning deceptively. He looked almost worried, like he might have done something wrong, but then you broke into a grin.

“I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed.” You admitted, turning your head to the dining table where you had already prepared some cut up fruit in a bowl with a side of honey and yogurt you found in the fridge.

He ruined your surprise, yet didn’t feel an ounce of regret. Instead, his heart flocked with fever, blood rushing, and his cheeks beginning to grow sore with how much broader he was smiling now.

Breakfast in bed? An actual meal and not just a piece of toast slathered in peanut butter… not that he would ever mind if you brought him that because he’d eat anything you’d give him. But this just feels other worldly.

“That’s sweet,” he replied appreciatively, letting the smile linger on his face because he was quite sure he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to — all of this was just too much for his heart to handle, “but you could’ve slept in, I wouldn’t have minded at all.”

He’d skip breakfast if it meant he got to lie awake in the morning sunlight and watch you dream until you woke. But he also wouldn’t want to pass out on this, the sweetness of the moment with you being here and doing this for him when you didn’t have to.

You shrugged, setting down the whisk you were using for the pancake batter and letting your arms wrap around his neck, stretching yourself into him in a hug. He doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in his arms, cradling your back and pulling you closer.

“I wanted to… felt right.” Your words springing against his skin like a million tiny kisses.

Right there in that moment, everything felt right.

He pulled back just enough to see you, a pout playing on your lips not being able to hide away in his neck. “Well, at least let me help. I can make a mean scrambled egg.” He smirked, wiggling his brow as you glanced up at him and giggled.

You rested your chin on his chest, keeping your orbs on him, and you’re sure you looked a mess.

Hair still a little tangled within the hideous bun you tossed it up into this morning. And your face looking dull not having the chance to give it a proper wash and moisturize with your beloved products waiting at your apartment.

You shouldn’t feel your best, but all of those silly insecurities don’t seem to matter, not when Steve is looking at you with fondness in his eyes, like he’s done it a million times before. Taking you in like you’re the sunshine and he’s the flora, leaves eager to soak you in and bask in your rays for as long as you’d let him.

Nothing about this feels weird or nerve racking. If anything, it feels comfortable, like home. A kind of familiarity the two of you just decided to lie in together.

Finally, after all the morning ogling, you answer him. “I’d be a fool to pass out on it, Chef Harrington.”

You tapped your fingertips along the back of his neck and he laughed at the feeling, tucking his chin down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “On it.”

Steve has moved around this kitchen many times before. He’s not the best cook in the world, almost cuts his fingers off every time he tries to finely chop ingredients or nearly burns himself with how hot he lets the pan get. But he knows how to cook food that tastes good and keeps him fed.

But you… you moved around his kitchen like it’s the waltz and you made it look effortless. The way you strode from the cabinets in search of something, eyes lighting up when you found the brown sugar and hugging it to your chest as you stepped back to grab a small bowl. You poured a teeny serving in, rolling the bag shut and striding back to put it where you found it.

You took the gooey eggshells from his hands as you swept past him, discarding them into the trash and giving your hands a wash under the tap before you dried them on a towel resting on the counter. Then you’re back at the stove, peppering a light dust of brown sugar over the raw pancake batter and giving them a flip.

It’s as if you rehearsed it — the rise and fall of every movement you make and how you make the space feel alive even in the early hours. It’s an addicting sight, like something Steve wants to watch over and over again in real time… but only, there are eggs in his pan and he’d be damned if he would mess up the first thing he’s ever cooked for you.

“What’s that for?” Steve cleared his throat with a cough, tearing his eyes from you and turning them towards the stove.

You hummed, facing him and observing how he pulled the raw eggs towards the center of the pan with the spatula. He’s focused — you’re about to have the best scrambled eggs of your life and the slight tip he gives the pan proves it to you.

“It gives them a little crust with some sweetness. That way, you don’t have to use too much syrup and it doesn’t get soggy by the time you’re done cooking them all.” You told him.

“And where’d you learn that?” He asked, taking his eyes off the pan and bringing them straight to yours.

Your shoulders bounced, bottom lip moving over your top one. “Nowhere specific, kinda just experimented, and it worked!”

Steve should’ve known… you’re far better in the kitchen than he is and he’d take all your advice, self taught or read in a cookbook.

“Smart girl.” He complimented with a coy smile as you grinned before you both turned back to the dishes.

The next seven minutes were spent with Steve plating the eggs and you forming a stack of brown sugar pancakes on top of one another. He worked on setting the table, grabbing extra napkins to get close by and making sure you both had clean glasses.

Even when you weren’t at home, you were always trying to be a good host. This time finding yourself in his fridge, moving bottles and containers over as if it would help you find something that wasn’t there.

“Are you sure you don’t want orange juice? I swear I could juice some right now!” You called out, eyeing the fresh fruits that sat in the produce drawer.

Steve barked out a laugh, head shaking, when you turned your head over your shoulder to see him. His eyes pointed to the table, the empty seat that was yours waiting for you. “Stop it! Water is fine… just come to the table, please.”

You huffed defeatedly with phony annoyance, strolling to the table with nothing in hand as Steve already grabbed you both a fresh cup of cold water. He made a scene, pretending to bow as he dramatically dragged your chair out for you while you covered your face and snickered behind them. You took a seat and even let him push you in.

The both of you opt to side by side instead of face to face — it was more comfortable and special that way, even when your knees occasionally bumped under the table.

“Thanks for doing this for me,” Steve spoke suddenly, grasping your wrist and holding it gently.

He said it like you didn’t use all of his groceries and made a mess of his kitchen. Like you were doing him a favor, something he didn’t deserve, when all you wanted to do was show him how much he deserved all the special moments of life, even homemade breakfast.

You grinned timidly, swinging your head as your other hand rested on top of his, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. “It’s really no problem. You did let me spend the night and take your bed.”

His face fell with feign skepticism. “Technically, we shared,” he countered with a lifted brow.

You rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue. “Okay, yeah, but still! I wanted to do this…really really wanted to do this for you.”

Steve could read between the lines, understanding where you were getting at without actually saying it.

How yesterday the mental spiral had taken a toll on him even after you promised you would spend the night at his. He was particularly quiet, keeping to himself and not having the energy to do much talking, but you didn’t mind, frequently turning to him and offering a comforting glimpse, rubbing a tender hand over his shoulder to ease his nerves.

You didn’t make him feel like there was something wrong with him or try to force him into the conversations when he didn’t want to. Instead, you let him be and made it clear that everything was alright. That you would be there when he felt lost and scared, even if he striked out and had to crawl back home.

He shouldn’t have turned the night he was anticipating into a long road of catastrophic blues. The words the kids had said without thinking should’ve bounced off of him like nothing. But instead he spent the night beside you wondering if how he was feeling was a mistake, if it was really all in his head the way he thought it was, or maybe how wrong and selfish it was to ask you to stay the night.

The whirlwind of uncertainty floating away when you grabbed his hand from under the table and gave it three squeezes when no one was paying attention. It was then and there that he knew you didn’t have any plans to leave… at least not without him.

All of that was true, seeing as though you were here in front of him.

He smiled kindly, eyes full of gratitude for you taking the time to do this for him even if it meant you missed out a few more minutes of sleep. Soon he’d find a way to make it up to you, but he wasn’t quite sure if anything he did would top this.

The two of you plated yourselves some food, digging in and enjoying one another’s presence in the early morning air that enveloped you both. And as per usual, Steve wasn’t subtle when it came to something you’ve made yourself. His fork clinked against the plate after he took a bite of the pancakes, throwing his head back on the chair and moaning loudly as he chewed.

“You’re a dork!” You chided, shaking your head as you laughed and slapped a hand over your mouth.

His head lifted up slightly, patting his bare stomach and giving it a rub. “That’s incredible, you’ve gotta trademark that or something.”

“I don’t think I could trademark food, can I?” Your eyes narrowed, thinking if that was a possibility because it didn’t sound bad.

He shrugged, sitting up straight and cutting himself another piece. “No clue, but you should try it. This is better than the boxed stuff,” he said, popping the fork into his mouth.

“It’s not too tricky, I could teach you how to make the batter from scratch next time?” You offered with a warm smile, eyes showing how genuine you really were about it.

He smiled tightly, nodding his head and speaking with a half full mouth making you grin. “I’d keep the recipe a secret… promise.”

Like something alike, you wanted to keep him a secret, and you’d be his if he let you.

But it would be a shame for either of you to be each other’s secret. Neither of you wanted to hide the other away from the world — far from that, actually.

He’d shout it from the rooftops and you’d paint it in the skyline — how special you both were to each other even after this short time. Have you both known each other for twenty seconds or twenty years?

Neither of you knew nor did you care because all that mattered was the lifetime you wanted to spend together like this. How this morning and last night felt so easy, as if you’ve spent the night in each other’s arms and woke up in them in some past life before.

Time was funny, but you and Steve never minded, not when this kind of feeling was soaring through your systems at an alarming pace.

The table was quiet for a few minutes, just the forks running against the ceramic and tolerable chewing. The two of you were stealing glances at each other when he was too busy spooning yogurt into his mouth and when you stared out the window watching the birds fly by.

Steve dredged his fingers clean, propping his elbow on the table as he watched you pick up the ice cold glass of water and finally tear your eyes away from the window to catch him. 

“How do you like Joyce and Hop?” He proposed, not getting the chance to ask you last night before you both went to bed. 

You gulped down the water, eyes lighting up. “Oh, they’re wonderful! They were really welcoming and made me feel right at home.”

He wasn’t surprised at all; he knew they’d love you and you’d love them — Hop and Joyce practically talked your ear off and you seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, grateful that they were keen on getting to know you better without making you feel like you were being interrogated. 

“Hopper didn’t bore you with his do-it-yourself kitchen renovation stories?” He questioned with a chuckle, reliving the vile conversation that came up during the dinner.

You scrunched your nose, catching his drift right away and your shoulders shuddering a bit. “I could’ve gone without knowing he found a huge rat in the walls, but at least now I know if I need an exterminator I could give him a call.”

“Trust me, he would have way too much fun going around and looking for things to fix.” He warned with no actual malice, just preparing you for the dad-mode Hop would be in if the occasion ever arose.

You snapped your finger as if you remembered something.

“Like the lock Max picked! It was pretty impressive, but I think it’s also a major safety issue.” Your voice falling with the realization.

He furrowed his brows, dropping his chin from his fists, face painted with worry and confusion. “Wait, Max picked your lock? When was this?”

“Oh, Robin didn’t tell you?” he shook his head, watching you sit up, “they stopped by that morning after you left and I guess I forgot to set my alarm and they were waiting outside in the hot sun so Max picked the lock to get in.” 

You revealed the situation like it was totally normal for them to be breaking and entering. Meanwhile, Steve’s head was whirling with fear at how easy your lock must have been to pick if they managed to get in even after he was sure he locked it from the inside before he left.

He would definitely tell you later to get the locks changed for safety purposes. 

Steve let out an exasperated sigh, letting his shoulders slump with disappointment. “I swore I told her to stop doing that.”

You lifted your brow suspiciously. “Did she pick your lock?”

“Worse.” He groaned, pinching his eyes shut at the memory from a few months ago. “She picked the lock to the arcade just after closing so she could beat Dustin’s high score on Dig Dug.”

You gasped, eyes widened slightly, and a laugh caught midway through your chest. “Did she get caught?” You asked partly stifled, not believing she could actually get away with it. 

But he shook his head, further surprising you and somehow your eyes got larger, watching as he mimed her actions.

“She went to the back room and deleted the security camera footage before leaving. That’s when Robin and I closed up Family Video and caught her trying to leave out the backdoor.”

“What happened after?” You leaned in closer, waiting for the continuation of the story.

He lifted his hand in a dismissive manner, lips pursing accompanied with a playful tone in his voice, “Oh you know, classic lecture and threats of taking her to Hopper—”

You didn’t look convinced, narrowing your eyes. “She wasn’t scared at all was she?”

“Not one bit,” he deadpanned before smiling defeatedly, “she asked me to give her a ride home and gave Robin a stuffed animal she stole from the backroom.”

“You know she could make a stealthy spy.” You pointed your fork at him before stabbing a piece of apple on its prongs.

He crossed his arms across his chest and sneered, “Oh trust me, she does enough snooping… alllll of the kids do.”

“But they’re all really sweet. They probably all have good intentions and just might have questionable ways of going about it.”

He knew you were right, and yesterday was a prime example of that.

The kids meant well just trying to get him to finally fess up his feelings that had been harboring since the moment he laid eyes on you. Their goal was never to send Steve into such a mental spiral that it caused him to combust internally and detach for the rest of the night. It would be unfair of him to ever think that of them because it was far from what they were.

They all were good kids, cared about each other and wanted the best for everyone they loved, especially him. They all knew how much Steve sacrificed for them, plenty of times of almost getting fired for giving out free ice cream and letting them off the hook for returning their tapes late.

It was about time that they helped Steve in the only way they knew how, which was trying to encourage him to make a move on the girl of his dreams, and they had no idea it would have ended up like that.

He felt like an asshole for the way he acted towards them. They were young and just wanted to see him happy, but instead they saw him moody and petulant.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes glazed over, sitting stiffly in the dining chair instead of the relaxed way he was just moments ago. You reached out a hand, setting it on his forearm and letting it move and up and down.

“Are you okay, Stevie?”

He blinked, instantly melting back into the relaxed state once your touch was on his. A half smile quirking up on the corner of his lips, thankful for your concern and quickness.

“Thought I told you not to worry about me?”

Your concern faded slightly, a warm glint in your eye now. “Thought I told you I would, anyway.”

“I’m never gonna win, am I?” He frowned sarcastically, watching as your hand fell back to the table.

“Nope! Now, what’s on your mind?” You ordered, shifting your body to face him fully with your knees settling against his.

You looked determined to figure it out and try to help him. To get into his mind and kick those worries away. Your elbows resting on your thighs as you kept your eyes on him, patiently waiting until he was ready.

He ran a rough palm over his face, wriggling his shoulders. “Just thinking about how stupid I acted at the party last night. Felt like a ghost with how quiet I was.”

“You didn’t act stupid at all,” your voice filled with confidence while you shook your head, “you just needed a little break and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I felt like an asshole.” His voice trailed off with annoyance with himself. 

“Don’t say that,” you pouted, poking his chest with a disapproving look on your face. “You’re not an asshole.”

He always found it endearing, your ability to always see the best in him, even when he knew he wasn’t at his best. Usually Steve’s always upbeat when it came to the friends and the kids, he’s known to be the friendliest of them all, but last night he felt far from that. As if he was the stranger sitting at the table lost in his own thoughts. 

“You sure?” He asked like you’d ever lie to make him feel better. 

You chuckled, nodding undoubtedly. “I’ve encountered a few assholes in my life and you’re waaaay off from one. You’re like the most non-asshole guy I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” This time a twinge of playfulness came with the question.

Nodding obviously, you leaned closer to him, your face hanging only inches away from his.

“A guy who memorizes a girl’s coffee order and picks up her favorite pastries when she’s far from a morning person?” Your lips curled into a smile. “I’m positive you’re not an asshole.”

Like a force of habit, his palm cradled your cheek, while you continued to stare up at him like he hadn’t been thinking so horribly about himself just moments ago. He was getting lost in your eyes; the ones filled with so much devotion and softness for the moment and how even this is enough for him.

“What if I just so happened to steal that cronut recipe?” He mumbled just clear enough for you to hear. 

You pushed back against his touch, cheek rising suspiciously in the palm of his hand. “Why? Are you hiding it from me? Because if you are, then that’s cruel!”

A dimpled smile broke out on his face, closing his eyes blissfully and swinging his head no. There’s laughter erupting from you and he could feel it in the way the apple of your cheeks leaped against his palm. You didn’t shy away from his hand, letting yourself stick to him like the sweetest honey, and he didn’t care about the mess. 

The real mess was whatever was in your systems.

He finally spoke. “No, but I know a stealthy spy who could help me break in and get it.”

You rolled your eyes, tongue in cheek. “You’re trouble, Harrington.”

The pulse point on his wrists felt your lips before he could comprehend what was happening. Your plush skin grazing his skin lightly, a kind of kiss that felt electrifying even when it wasn’t upon his own lips. It’s innocent yet still all around tantalizing, the urge to tell you that he’s crazy for you on the tip of this tongue more than ever now. 

He was sure before that he’d go through all the trouble if it meant making you happy, but now he’s positive he’d even break into a family-owned establishment to get you that secret recipe – and most importantly, to feel you like this every morning. 

His pulse was undeniably thumping against your lips, though you didn’t mind, letting them stay for a minute until the phone abruptly rang and you were tearing away from his hold, ripping yourself from him like a bandaid that took the skin with it. His wrist began to feel lonely, pulse feeling like it’s dying out not having you there anymore.

To your surprise, you weren’t feeling at all embarrassed, simply just giddy as he cursed apologetically and let his hand fall into his lap as he got up. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be right here!” You vowed, tipping your head back to watch as he left the kitchen.

It was only seven in the morning and he never got calls this early. Ever. Unless it was the kids. 

“Hello,” he answered, pressing the hunk of plastic to his ear. 

“Hey, kid,” it was Hopper, “how are, umm, you and the girl?” 

Steve peeked back into the kitchen, seeing you finishing up the rest of the cut up fruit. “We’re having breakfast right now. What’s up?”

“Honey! They’re already having breakfast!” Hop called out, sound a bit far away. 

“Crap!” Joyce wailed out in the background. 

Steve laughed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry. If you would’ve called half an hour ago, we’d still be in bed.”

“You guys shared the bed?” Hop inquired, his voice accusing and curious at the same time.

“Well… yeah.” Steve didn’t have any reason to lie, but he was regretting it the second it left his mouth.

“Soooo… s’that why you both left early yesterday?” Hop suggested, sounding more interested in conversing now. 

Steve turned away from the adjoining wall, cupping his hand over the receiver as he spoke sharply. “What? No! We left early because I was crabby and she was getting tired.”

A puff of air came from the other end, Hoppers laugh heavy. “You know you don’t have to lie—”

“Oh my god, I’m hanging up, now.” Steve’s fingers were ready to press the hook switch to end the call. 

“Tell your girl I checked her tire pressure and added some air into her back left wheel, thing was nearly deflated.” 

“Yeah okay, appreciate it. We’ll be there in a few.” 

There’s talking in the background, he could hear Joyce saying something and Hopper attempting to cut her off with ‘yeah’s’ and ‘got' it’s.’

“And Joyce says she’ll save some breakfast sandwiches.” Hop grumbles.

“Okay, thanks, bye.” Steve said rushed, pulling the phone away from his ear.

He placed the phone back onto the rest, shaking his head a bit at the teasing he often faced from Hopper, but it was all in good fun. At times, he felt that Hop and Joyce were more like parents to him than his own. Hell, they knew more about his life than his parents ever did. 

“Who was that?”

He took a seat beside you again. “Hop. I think Joyce made him call to ask if we wanted some breakfast.”

“Oh no, I hope she didn’t go through too much trouble.”

Steve shook his head, reassuring you. “She said she’d save us breakfast sandwiches for when we go and get your car.”

“That’s sweet of her.” You bubble, a smile replacing how apologetic you feel for missing out on her breakfast.

“And Hop said to tell you he checked your tire pressure and filled the back left one up with air.” Steve informed you, watching the way your eyes filled with appreciation and surprise.

“Oh my god, he’s the best! How much do I owe him?”

You’re a lot of things — talented, kind, beautiful, all around down to Earth, but you don’t know much about cars and he doesn’t blame you because they’re boring, but he now realized he can never let you walk into an auto shop alone and let you be victim to those premium air scams.

“Nothing, sweetheart. The air is free, and he just uses a special machine to fill it up.”

“But it must have taken him forever.” You protest with a deep breath, determination behind your voice like you’re sure of it and you want to compensate the old guy.

Steve’s face softened, moving over to clutch your hand and give it a squeeze. “He takes longer to pick up donuts and head into work. Filling up tires is easy peasy for him, I promise you.”

“You sure?” You bit your lip still feeling a bit bad for Hop going out of his way.

He nodded, giving your hand another squeeze. “Positive.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“Just curious as to why we left early last night. Told him I was crabby, and you were getting sleepy.”

“I wasn’t that tired.” You mumbled.

Steve scoffed, forehead creasing up because you clearly didn’t see yourself how he saw you last night. “Sweetheart, your eyes drooping on the drive home.”

“No, they weren’t!” You half-laughed in defense, palms resting on the table. 

“You fell asleep so quickly last night.” He pointed, roaring at the way you gave in and blushed. 

“I was just really comfortable.” You whined, lifting your eyes away from his in an attempt to stop yourself from looking like a dork. 

“Yeah, you looked super comfortable. You were even snoring a little.”

You shrieked, a small scream coming from your throat and hands covering your face. “Was I?” God, that’s embarrassing!”

He wrapped his fingers around your wrists, working them away from your face without any resistance. Your eyes met with his smile and headshake. “No, it was cute! You’re just lucky you fell asleep first because had you not my snoring would’ve kept you up.”

“I think I’d be able to fall asleep either way. It was so comfy.”

What you really meant to say was that he’s comfy — practically was your space heater and human pillow. You would be a liar if you didn’t think that you were a bit too clingy last night, but he didn’t seem to mind from what you remembered and it felt nice not having to apologize for that. You know Steve would’ve told you if he didn’t like it; he was always honest with you. 

“Would it be okay if I had another shower before we leave?” You watched him stack the plates, getting up and walking them over to the sink. 

“Course! Go and I’ll take care of the dishes.” He replied, taking the bowls you had stacked from your hands. 

You willingly handed them over, following him to the counters. “No, c’mon let me dry and you can wash,” attempting to reach into the drawers to retrieve a clean kitchen towel.

But he blocked you, keeping his hip attached to the wood. “No, go on and shower. I’m not moving till your butt is walking upstairs.”

You both knew he wouldn’t relent, not like the first time you’d stepped into his home and insisted you helped gather plates and cutlery. Things were different now, with time grew comfortability, but also playfulness and ease.

“Fine!” you fussed, trudging away dramatically. 

“Did you need to borrow clothes?” He called out, arms folded over his chest as he watched you.

You halted near the doorway, spinning and wrapping your arms round the frame, smiling stupidly at him. “Please? I would use my clothes, but they still smell like charcoal.”

“Pick whatever you want, and leave the dirty ones in the hamper. I’ll do a load before we leave.”

“Thanks! You’re the best!” You singsonged, making your way up the stairs leaving him with the biggest love sick smile on his face.

The Harrington house has never felt this homey and for Steve it’s a feeling that he never wants to fleet. His fists running under lukewarm water scrubbing dishes that weren’t only used by him but by someone whom he wanted to stay with. The lip print you had left around the cusp of the glass, suds away, and he wondered when was the next time you’d be coming around. 

Clean dishes pile onto the kitchen rag you laid out before you went to shower. He decided to let them air dry instead, making better use of his time by heading upstairs and grabbing the hamper of dirty laundry filled with both yours and his clothes.

Strolling down the hallway, he heard the sound of the running water in the shower accompanied by your hums to a tune he couldn’t pick up from behind the wooden door. Though it doesn’t fail to make him smile, pleased that you felt so comfortable at his place already. Turning into his bedroom, he fetched the laundry basket, twisting back around to head downstairs towards the washing machine. 

Steve had never put much thought into actually taking the time to do separate loads of laundry, honestly just sticking everything in one wash and throwing them in the dryer as any other person would do. He was guilty, a few times some of his white t-shirts would dye a bright green from his work vest but they were replaceable.

It’s only then when your clothes are in his care that he takes the time to read the labels to make sure he’s washing them properly. Your floral long sleeve, safe to wash along with the rest of the other garments. But he doesn’t risk it with the denim overalls, deciding that it’s best for them to have its own cycle to prevent it from fading too much and wearing the material down.

A hefty scoop of detergent goes in with the wash before he clicks start, and the whirling begins.

Your fingers reached for the lotion bottle that sat on his bathroom counter, pumping a dollop into your palm and spreading it across your damp skin. Though it’s unscented, it still smelled like Steve, a hint of him layering itself over the body wash you just used in his shower a moment ago. When the two are paired together, it’s a reminder that you didn’t wash away his touch from last night or this morning, but now you felt like you were reapplying it like a second layer of skin.

You worked the tan buttons that lined the front placket through the buttonholes, leaving the first two undone for a more casual feel, letting it droop down one of your shoulders. Another pair of his boxer shorts, this time light blue colored, rolled up over your hips to fit snuggly.

Running your hands down your sides, you took a deep breath in the mirror, satisfied with the way you looked despite the slouchy fit to the oversized garments. You liked the way you looked in Steve's clothes, no matter how baggy they were on you. 

“Let me fix…this,” you complained to yourself, motioning around your head before tugging your hair out of the bun and letting it fall down your back.

Your fingers worked through the roots, giving them a bit of volume while the other brushed the ends, untangling some of the knots. You sectioned your hair in half, keeping the top half in a little bun in the back of your head while the bottom half flowed down nicely.

Grabbing your damp towel off the counter, you hung it on the rack before hitting the light switch off and opening the door.

“Oops, sorry!” You yelped, running smack dab into Steve’s side as he walked by.

He tsked at himself, immediately stabilizing you by the shoulders. “Oh, shit, sorry,” he paused, the two of you laughing now before he looked down and realized what you were wearing. “Woah, you look nice.”

Your fingers played with the sleeves that nearly covered your palms, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hope you don’t mind. It looked nice.”

Steve shook his head, shamelessly admiring the way it looked on you. He hasn’t worn the button down in a few weeks, forgetting it was even in his closet, but glad you found it and picked it out for yourself. 

“Looks better on you.” His hands rubbed up and down the sleeves before nodding his head towards his bedroom where you followed. 

He headed for his closet, pulling the accordion doors open while you plopped down comfortably onto his neatly made bed, shifting onto your stomach as you observed him. 

“Got any idea on what I should wear?” 

“Dark jeans? Maybe some Nikes?” You suggested, propping your chin up on your arms.

“Nude top half?” He said, and you could feel the smirk in his voice.

You snorted. “Shut up. You’ll look good in whatever you pick.”

He plucked some pieces off the hangers, shutting the doors before turning to you. “Just teasing. I’ll be quick and then we’ll be out of here.”

“Take your time…do you mind if I sketch?” 

You looked towards his desk, eyeing the yellow notepad that sat on top of the rest of his belongings. He nodded, walking up to it and grabbing a pen and pencil and handing them to you. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you!” You took it from him, getting to work as he walked across the hall. 

You didn’t take yourself seriously with the sketch, drawing up whatever you had in your head. It’s what you had woken up to that morning—Steve’s arm slung across your stomach with his face in the crook of your neck. Snores and breaths greeting your skin in the purest kind of way, even if it had gotten you up a little earlier. 

You wished you had a polaroid around to capture the scene, but thankfully your photographic memory wouldn’t ever let you forget it. Such a sight to see the sun peeking in through the cracks of the curtains, spilling a beautiful glow over his back that made each and every single one of his beauty marks stand out – now you were positive you knew where each other was. 

He looked at peace, face no longer sulked and somber like it had been the night prior. The crease between his brow ironed out, not a glimmer of anxiety as he dreamed…if only you could convince him to stay right there forever because you didn’t want to share. 

“Ready?”

Losing track of time when you were lost within the pen and paper wasn’t abnormal, but being pulled out of the trance by a beautiful boy was something new. You peered up from the page, breath hitched as you took all of him in.

A color block polo — dark blue to compliment the wash of his jeans and cream in the center. You liked to think he was matching you in a way. 

“You look really good.” You complimented with a tight smile, capping the pen and rolling off of your stomach. 

“You picked it so thank you.” 

He turned to his drawers, pulling them open to get a clean pair of socks. Unbeknownst to him, you ripped the sketch off the pad, folding it and slipping it under one of the corners of his landline, just enough of it peeking out for him to find later.

You slung your bag over your shoulder, giving yourself a one over in the hanging mirror before Steve finally shut the drawer and turned back to you. 

“The wash isn’t done yet?” He said, letting you walk in front before he closed his door behind him. 

You hummed out a no, listening closely to hear the slight rumbling of the machine. “I can still hear it running.”

You both stopped at the front door, Steve leaning against the wall as he slipped his socks on and pushed them into his Nikes. Undoing the laces, he knotted them tighter, pulling the strings taut.

“I’ll pop them in the dryer when I get home and give you your stuff the next time I see you?”

“That’s perfect, and I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other soon.” You assured him, bending down as you strapped your sandals on. 

He waited until you were ready, opening the front door for you and then reaching into his pockets for the keys. With your back facing him, you looked out on his driveway, seeing how the shiny red hood reflected the sunlight. It was practically spotless, not even a smidge of dirt across his front bumper — he must have really adored his car. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever told you how nice your car is.” 

“You know she used to be cleaner before the kids started eating and leaving their crumbs behind.” He told you, his fingers twisted the front door to make sure it was locked, which it was. 

“They’ve got you wrapped around their pinkies.” You nudged him as you walked down his driveway. 

He wiggled the keys in the air. “Wanna give it a drive?”

“HA! You’re so funny.”

“No, I’m serious.” He added, placing the keys in your hands and closing your fingers around them. 

“You’re gonna let me drive your fancy car?” 

He laughed comically, unsure why it seemed so out of this world to you that he would let you drive his car. You’re probably the only person Steve trusted to drive it. You’re responsible, and unlike Eddie, he knows you won’t try to race the other cars on the road. 

“You’ve got your license, which means you know how to operate a car. Fancy or not.” 

“You sure?” You sought again skeptically, giving him one last chance to back out. 

“I trust you. Now c’mon, I’ll give you directions and everything and this time you won’t get lost.” He assured you, walking over to the driver’s side holding the door open for you. 

“You put way too much trust in me, Steve.” You puffed with a weak laugh, walking over to get in.

“Actually, just the right amount.” He patted the top of the hood before shutting the door. 

He held his hands out for your purse, resting it in his lap as you began adjusting the seat and mirrors to your liking. Steve reminded you that it was okay to adjust it as much as you needed, that he would be able to fix it all back to normal later. Before you knew it, you were on the road, driving in probably the nicest car you’ve ever driven in your life while the radio played and Steve gave you directions to Joyce and Hop’s.

“And ladies and gentlemen, we’ve arrived…alive!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth, announcing it with a deep voice as you giggled. 

“Stop it!” You placed the car into park before nudging his shoulder with a feeble fist.

His hands let up, looking in your direction with a small smile showing up. “I knew you’d do good.”

 “Got my half broken down piece of crap to thank.” You joked, jutting your chin to your less than adorned car parked beside his.

“You know Eddie’s uncle knows a thing or two about cars? Maybe he could check it out one day?”

“Oh my god, please?”

“I’ll call Eds today and see what Wayne can do.” 

“You’re amazing.” 

Steve felt like he’d been reduced to a fit of smiles and sore cheeks all morning, taking in your compliments and passing them back to you. He’s used to people thanking him, but never for the bare minimum parts he promises you he’ll never break. It’s something he could get acquainted with, and he hoped it would never end. 

Within his peripheral vision, he could see the family begin to crowd the porch, watching through the windshield. “Looks like we’ve got a crowd.” 

“I’m not surprised.” You retorted, making the first move to remove the key from the ignition and open the door. 

“Morning!” You hailed out loud, tossing the keys over to Steve as he locked it up. 

“You let her drive your car!” El exclaimed, though you were both pretty sure she meant it as a question. 

“Mhm, she’s horrible, a menace to society. You should arrest her right now, Hop.” Steve answered seriously, patting Hop on the behind with a growing smirk. 

“You’re ridiculous.” You snorted, waking over to give the kids and Jonathan a hug. 

“Had a fun night?” Hop urged, leaning against the post. 

You nodded, looking up at Steve. “More like relaxing… Steve’s shower pressure is perfect, better than the one I have at home.” You informed them, missing the smirks that fell on Hop and Jonathan’s faces. 

Hop stuck his hand out, pushing at Steve’s shoulder roughly. “Oh, I’m sure Steve has the right amount of pressure somewhere else—”

Joyce erupted with a loud cough, picking up your attention and catching her stomp on his foot in the process, while he winced, cursing under his breath.

“Inside!” She blurted, clearing her throat and gesturing to the front door, "I’m gonna give you the dish you brought inside! I just washed and dried it a little while ago.”

“Oh, okay!”

The spectators on the front porch waited until you were out of reach to start talking about what was going through their minds since you and Steve left last night. It was a short goodbye; you thanking Joyce and Hop for having you over and giving everyone else a hug while Steve waited by until you were done. Safe to say, once you both drove off, they all speculated on what was going to happen and why you were really spending the night at his.

“You’re disgusting, dad.” Will scowled, shaking his head with revulsion. 

Hopper ignored him, looking over at Steve. “She’s wearing your clothes.”

“Okay and?” Steve said, looking a little annoyed at how anyone was crediting him for the truth. 

“You two had sex.” He declared flatly, a grin tugging up on his lips as the porch exploded with grunts and obscenities to shut up. 

“Oh, my god!” Jonathan choked on his spit, turning away and laughing.  

“Gross!” El yelped, covering her tomato red face. 

“I think I’m gonna barf.” Will declared, dramatically clutching his stomach. 

Steve rolled his eyes at their ignorance, arms crossing over his chest. “Believe it or not, I don’t need to have sex with her to have a good night.”

“Wow, isn’t that the first?” Jonathan bantered with a satirical inflection in his tone. 

“Is that a hickey on your neck?” Steve narrowed his eyes, pointed at the purple bruise hiding behind his messy hair. 

“I’m definitely gonna throw up.” Will gagged, turning away and covering his mouth.

El frowned, looking down at her chipped nails. “Is that why Nancy didn’t want to paint my nails last night?”

Hop looked between the youngest and the oldest. “I thought she left with Robin after the barbecue.”

“Oh my god, this isn’t about me!” Jonathan stammered, slapping a hand behind his ear to hide the love bite. 

“What happened?” You buzzed, strolling back out to the porch with the glass bowl in hand and Joyce beside you.

Steve grinned wickedly, happy that he got them off his back, turning to Jonathan and smacking him over the head lightly. “Nothing, just teasing him.”

“Speaking of, Jonathan, don’t you need to give her something?” Joyce’s eyes darted to the back of his pocket where the flyer was folded up. 

He reached behind him, passing it over to you, Steve taking the bowl from your hands so that you could unfold it and read its contents. A bright graphic announcement of a farmer’s market that would be hosted in Hawkins next weekend. 

“Nance meant to give it to you last night, but she forgot,” Jonathan began, “We’re trying to get the town rallying behind small business before they all get driven out. She was wondering if you wanted to help out and host a booth.”

“Like a bake sale?” You proposed. 

He shrugged, looking over at his brother for some guidance. “Kinda, but she was thinking of it as a bake sale and art sale combined.”

Will chimed in without missing a beat. “I pitched the idea to Nance, and she seemed to really like it. I could help you manage the booth. I’ll take the art side and you can handle the baked goods, then we switch around the halfway mark.”

“That’s genius.” You grinned, reaching back to rubbing his shoulder proudly. 

“No really, you guys should do it.” Steve supported from behind you knowing that you would be great at something like this. 

El let out a gasp, clutching your shoulder lightly as she wedged herself between you and Steve. “I can help with the money! I’m getting better at counting change!” She spoke bubbly, making you and him laugh.

“Nancy’s covering the whole thing and writing a paper about it. She’s really hoping to get it published.”

You’d help out either way knowing that this was an important cause, but hearing about how Nancy was the leader of this whole thing made you want to help even more. She was so passionate when talking to you about her love for writing and keeping these mom-and-pops in her town up and running — you were definitely in. 

“Well, tell her I’d be happy to help!” You replied warmly, folding up the paper and sticking it in your purse. 

“Great! I’ll let her know!”

You twisted your head, looking over at Hop. “Oh! And thank you for filling up the tire!” 

“No problem, kid.”

“It didn’t take you long, no?” 

“Easy as could be.” The older man assured you with his tongue clicking. 

“Told ya.” Steve smirked, pressing his elbow gently into your side, making you giggle. 

The two of you didn’t notice how the family was watching the way you and Steve interacted like a couple, so oblivious to the small touches and teasing that usually never came with everyone else. It was the kids who stepped forward, breaking up the love dove fest between the both of you. Will slung his arm over Steve’s shoulder and El rested her chin on his shoulder with those puppy eyes that the babysitter could not say no to, even after the meltdown last night. 

“Steve, could you give us a ride to the arcade? Lucas and Max are already there.”

Steve scoffed, glancing over at the other adults around. “You’ve got your parents and your brother here who all have licenses you know.”

“Hop and I are gonna go run errands!” Joyce clapped her hands, gawking up at Hop who snapped out of it and nodded agreeingly.

“Gotta go see Nancy.” Jonathan tried to excuse himself.

It was no use. Steve was ultimately the go-to chauffeur, the best and safest driver who wouldn’t only take them to point A and B, but stayed until they were ready to go back home and occasionally gave them spare change when they ran out. 

“Go get changed.” Steve exhaled, utterly defeated.

El and Will cheered, detaching themselves from his sides before engulfing you in a quick, yet tight hug. “Bye! We’ll see you!” They said before rushing inside. 

“Bye-bye, kiddos.”

Steve looked over at you, tilting his head towards your car. “C’mon, I’ll walk you.” 

You nodded, twiddling your fingers at Jonathan and his parents. “Bye guys, thanks again!”

“See ya sweetie.”

Steve stepped a bit ahead of you, opening the driver door when you clicked the fob before moving towards the back seat and putting the dishware on the empty seats. You waited until he shut the door before reaching up and wrapping him up in a hug. 

Your bodies molded together, like they’ve done times before, holding one another properly like it was routine by now. His face in the crook of your neck while you tiptoed and rested your forehead under his jaw. 

“Drive home safe okay?” He squeezed your back, feeling the skin indent through the garment. 

“I will.” You promised, taking a deep breath of him in, savoring everything right now. 

“Thank you.”

“Don’t let anyone beat Max’s high score on Dig Dug.” You spoke half jokingly. 

“I’ll try.” He huffed out against your neck 

“Tell me about it later.”

He gave your back one last gentle squeeze, pressing a kiss to your temple before he released you and let you get into the front seat. You hadn’t made the move to close the door yet, just settling in by placing your bag on the passenger seat and twisting on the ignition.

“You still have a full tank?” Steve peered a ways bit in, his focus on the arrow on your dashboard. He got a glimpse of the red light that switched on, making a mental note to bring it up to Eddie later today.

You took a peek, nodding and looking up to meet his gaze. “A little more than half. I should be okay for the drive home.”

“Okay, sorry, just wanted to make sure. Didn’t want you running out on the highway.” He apologized sheepishly, raking a hand through his hair. 

“No, it’s alright, it was sweet.” You giggled, moving up to tuck a stray piece of hair away from his eyes. 

He gulped, your hand still trying to place the piece with his roots. “See you in a few days?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding your head, “a few days.” You agreed, fingertips finally trailing over his cheek and jaw before falling back into your lap. 

“O-okay… great, awesome, get home safe.” He sputtered slightly, eyes still holding yours. 

“You too! Oh, and Steve?” You stopped him from moving away from your car, though he wasn’t making plans to, anyway.

“Yeah?”

“I might have left something on your desk, but you can just check it out later okay?”

“Something important? I can drive down and get it real quick?”

You shook your head immediately. “No, no, I mean yeah, it’s important, but not that important… well I kinda hope that it is important, to you I mean — sorry, am I rambling?”

“Not at all.” He said, biting back a chuckle. 

“Just…just check it out when you get home okay?” You asked, voice fluttering with desperation like you needed him to find it. 

“Promise.”

You took a deep breath in, smiling wistfully and feeling your chest tighten having to say goodbye. “See ya, Steve.”

“I’ll see you, cupcake.” He assured you, tapping the hood of your car and shutting your door gently.

It’s been hours since this morning. The day slowly dwindled into night by the time Steve parked his car in the driveway and unlocked the front door. He was only able to pop in for a few minutes before he brought the kids to the arcade, throwing the clean laundry into the dryer and saving your overalls for when he got home. Slipping his shoes off, he made a beeline to the laundry room, tossing the denim material into the machine before emptying the dryer and taking the basket with him.

“Fuck,” He spat, stubbing his toe near his desk in the darkness before clicking on the lamp for a little bit of light.

He dropped the basket onto the floor, making plans to fold and put them all away before he went to bed. But eyes caught the bright yellow paper tucked under his home phone, crimped into fourths with his name written in a heart on it.

It was you who left it and he knew it. His hand springing forward and nearly toppling the phone off the desk all together as he seized it and swiftly opened it up without ripping.

A sketch of you and him in bed. You’re lying awake, facing towards him with your hands resting on his arm that’s sprawled over your stomach. His face is partly hidden in your neck, yet you’ve detailed everything like the bridge of his nose and the curve of his jaw. Even the freckles that litter his skin are dotted in the blank ink. Glimmers of sunlight created with the gray graphite along with the creases of the bed sheets covering the bottom half of your bodies.

Even for a sketch, he knows this is unreal, the talent you have, insane for drawing this up in the matter of his fifteen minute shower. He should have been looking at himself, appreciating how much thought you put in to making sure it looked exactly like him, yet he’s looking at you.

How you’ve drawn your face with somehow all the emotions that he can feel through this piece of paper. That while he was asleep dreaming of you, you were awake watching him. It’s intimate, like you’ve let him know what you’ve both been feeling all this time and finally confessed.

In the prettiest and neatest handwriting he’d ever seen, you had left a message in the blank corner.

‘You look pretty when you’re sleeping, Stevie. Not gonna forget like an idiot this time… xxx-xxx-xxxx.’

Steve had never picked up the phone and dialed so speedily that he had to hang up and redial, totally messing up and pressing the wrong numbers the first time.

It’s been hours since you departed Hawkins. The drive back to Roane was uneventful but still smooth, hitting no traffic and even crunching enough time to stop by the diner to say hello to Dorothea and catch her up on life.

You had spent the rest of the day fueled with energy and anticipation. The second you walked into your apartment you felt a spark of motivation. Something calling you back to the piece you had abandoned only 24 hours ago. Now you had a clear mind and no thoughts of feeling like the sketch looked like garbage — even if it was a flicker of false inspiration, you’d take it.

Half of the sketch had already been painted by the late afternoon. Different shades of browns you had mixed together for the golden crust of the pie as well as the lattice design you had freehanded. Only parts of the cherry filling had been painted with a red too red for your liking, but you’d go back in tomorrow to refine it instead of beating yourself up then and forgetting about the progress you had made.

You were trying to be nicer to yourself.

Little progress still meant progress, and that was the one thing that mattered. That finally something in your system was flowing the way you wanted it to, and part of you felt like it was Steve. Possibly his reminder echoing in the back of your head that the act of trying was literally you trying, and that in itself was good enough.

You were good enough and the progress you made was good enough.

Breathe. Take it in. Breathe out. Take it in.

The act of you literally doing breathing exercises in front of your painting could’ve been seen as narcissistic. Maybe it was? But for you, it meant something a lot different. It was you patting yourself on the back for what you did and making mental notes of what you could’ve improved on without openly criticizing yourself so harshly.

You were so good to other people; you had to find it in yourself to be good to you. To treat you the way, you treated others — how you complimented everyone for doing their best and how you should’ve been doing the same all this time.

It was never too late to break down that old system….to grow and be better.

You had walked away from the canvas minutes ago, busy in the kitchen grabbing a little snack and figuring out what you were going to have for dinner or even if you had any energy left to make some. A hot bag of popcorn came out of the microwave and you popped open a soda, going to sit at the table for a little downtime before—

RING! RING! RING!

“Eeeek!” Squealing you nearly tripped over the coffee table, rushing towards the phone juggling your snacks as you struggled to figure out what to do first — put everything down or answer the phone. 

“Hello!” You answered nearly out of breath yet cheerfully, gasping quietly as you caught your can of Coke before it tipped over and made a mess. 

“Hey!” Steve’s voice rang through the other line, and he sounded just as delighted. 

“Steve! Hey….” you paused, catching your breath, “y-you found my sketch?”

“It’s my newest prized possession.”

“I missed you… I-I mean, I missed hearing your voice. We literally just saw each other this morning.” 

Somehow it felt easier to talk to Steve in person rather than on the phone–even if it meant he could physically see you blushing and smiling like a maniac. Yet he found it cute, how you tried to cover your tracks as if he didn’t feel the same way and could imagine what you looked like right then.

“I missed you too — you’re voice and you.” He said, making you smile wider.

“What are you up to?” You asked, getting comfortable on the floor.

“Laying in bed, still looking at the drawing while talking to you.”

“Are you sleepy?” You wondered, realizing the hour and the day he must have had.

“No! Sorry… I just didn’t want you to think I’m tired. I mean I am tired, but I’m not tired enough to not want to talk to you.” He said convincingly, though his stumbling over words made you second guess it.

“You can always sleep if you want to…we could talk tomorr—”

He cut you off with an abrupt disapproving hum. “Don’t even think about it!”

You giggled, shoulders rising and falling comfortably before you started up. “You’ll never guess what I did today!”

“Steal the cronut recipe?” He guessed without skipping a beat.

“Oh my god, no!”

“Fineee tell me.”

“I painted!” You exclaimed, voice rising higher, “like actually. really. painted. something with my own hands and I didn’t look at it and think “wow this looks like shit,” I did it!”

You sounded proud of yourself, and he hoped you were feeling that just as much on the inside. Only a week ago, you were tearing yourself apart in the diner where you sat across from him, and he could do nothing but speak encouraging and honest words to you, hoping you’d see it through the way he did.

If he was there, he’d give you the biggest hug in the world then take you out to the diner. This time he’d actually grab the bill before you could and bring more quarters so you could play an unlimited amount of love songs and dance with him until your bellies were full and your legs were tired.

You wished he was here.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s great! What’d you paint?”

You swallowed, peering up at the canvas that was drying. “It’s uhh… it’s a surprise!”

“Surprise?” He said, literally taken by surprise.

“Yeah! So I can’t tell you.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing it… maybe soon?”

“Fingers crossed.”

That was enough for him… a promise that one day, whenever it may be, he would get the chance to see it with his very own eyes instead of just hearing about it. He already knew he’d be complimenting it and you for days on end, you’d probably get sick of it, but he wouldn’t.

“You’ll never guess what happened today.” Steve began shuffling a bit on his bed to get comfortable.

You gasped, reaching for your popcorn and tossing some in your mouth. “Did Dustin beat Max’s score?”

“Worse.” He said behind a strained laugh.

“Oh god.”

“Mike did!”

You slapped your hand down on the coffee table, making him chortle on the other line, knowing you’d react like this. “Oh, my gosh! Tell. Me. Everything!”

“It’s a long one.” He warned you, hoping you had the time to give him.

You scoffed jokingly, grabbing your snacks and leaning back on the couch cushions. “I’ve got all night, Harrington.”

Your midnights. Your mornings. Your afternoons. He hoped he could have them all... he wasn't sure if it was too soon for all of that, if the idea of having them already thought up in his mind was cool or not.

But he'd just have to hope that everything... all of this, you and him.

It was delicate, but it didn't always have to be.

“Lucky me.”

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: how are we all feeling after that? i know i am kicking my feet wishing i had a steve to treat me so soft and nicely! ugh, guys this is probably my most favorite chapter i've written so far -- i really wanted this chapter to focus on domesticity and the softness between glitch reader and steve!!! my heart and soul is always alway so thankful for the wonderful effie aka @translatemunson who is always giving me feedback and helping me proof-read...i literally could not do this without her so thank you so much bby, i love you!!! 🥹💘 i really hope you all love this chapter as much as i do...isn't it just so delicate?!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3 @claireiscrying @we-out-here-simping @dreamerjj

#munsonsreputation #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!baker #steve harrington x fem!artist #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #taylor swift x stranger things #steve harrington x taylor swift #steve stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington drabble

[fandxmslxt69]

Loki (TV): Speak Now (TV): Enchanted (part 2)

Loki Laufeyson x f!asgardian!reader

Warnings: Lots of thoughts of insecurity, probably TOO MUCH descriptions lmao umm Loki gets a little sad :( mentions of jealousy, some swearing. Thor being Thor. THIS IS NOT EDITED PROPERLY LMAO I finished it and was Too Lazy to wait for Atlas to get available to edit and read through so thats def a big warning.

Synopsis: After that fateful night, Loki couldn't get you out of his mind, but weeks later at a different ball, he finds you again (or, alternatively, Loki's depressed and Thor Is Thor and decides to help in his special way lmao) Based on Miss Taylor Swift's Enchanted.

A/N: AHAHAHA ITS FINALLY HERE !!!! Anyway Happy Loki Month everyone (idc.) This was so....OOC. I just. Wow yeah I just have lots of things to say abt Loki to they all went here. YEAH I did give it a happy ending okay you're WELCOME. -Clem THIS IS PART 2!! IF YOU WANT THE FULL FIC, YOU CAN FIND PART 1 ON THE MASTERLIST!

Tags: Okay tryna remember everyone who wanted a tag lmao. @divine-knight-hand @the-fox-den @nyxlaufeyson @under00s616 @mischief2sarawr @saturn-rings-writes @sarahscribbles <- if, perhaps, you wanted to read the last little bit <3 If I forgot anyone, please lmk.

Word count: 3.5k (LETS GO!!)

Note: This is from Loki's POV!!

“So what just happened?” Your friends pounced on you as soon as you got settled in your room. You tried really hard, like really hard to ignore them as you carefully undid your hairstyle and brushing out your hair. 

“Whatever do you mean?” “Oh, don’t play stupid. You disappear, and then show back up looking dishevelled and flushed!” 

“I was not flushed,” You argued. They all looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “Okay, fine. I don’t appreciate this at all. You’re violating me, in my own house,” 

“Yes well, our dearest apologies,” One of them said, feigning sincerity. “Now, talk,” 

Well, who liked secrets anyway? 

*                                                               *                                                              *

The lingering question kept me up

2 AM, who do you love?

I wonder 'til I'm wide awake

Loki lay in his bed, fiddling with a dagger between his fingers as he stared at the ceiling. As soon as the party ended, he had left straight to his room, stripping out of his suddenly-too-tight suit and into much more comfortable clothing. He couldn’t get the thought of you out of his head. He hadn’t attended tonight’s ball with the expectations of anything big happening, and yet now it feels like his world got turned upside down. 

And now I'm pacing back and forth

Wishing you were at my door

I'd open up and you would say, "Hey"

Would she come back, he wondered. Perhaps she changed her mind. He couldn’t stop himself from replaying every second, trying to figure out if there was anything he missed- if any second, you’d come knocking at his door. Thinking back on your entire conversation together, he couldn’t stop the smile breaking across his face. 

“Thank you for the dance, your highness,” Your last words rang abruptly in his mind, immediately squashing his good mood again. He closed his fist around the hilt of the dagger and flicked it at the wall. It landed on it perfectly.  

“Thank you for the dance, your highness,” The words replayed again, and again. He groaned loudly, running a hand down his face. He rolled over, burying his face in his pillow and letting out a loud groan of anger. 

Before he could wallow in pain any longer, there was a knock on the door. “I asked not to be disturbed!” He shouted, but it came out muffled.

Then there was another knock. 

“I swear if there is another knock I will-” “You’ll what?” Frigga’s voice came calm, yet in his mind’s eyes he could see the expression of warning on her face. He did not hear the door open, otherwise he would’ve chosen his words much more carefully. He slowly rolled onto his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling. 

“Mother. I didn’t hear you come in,” “No, I doubt you did with all the wallowing you had been doing,” “I wasn’t wallowing,” 

He could see her raise a perfect eyebrow from the corner of his eye. “Really?” She walked gracefully across his room, and her hand reached for the dagger stuck to the wall. She wanked it out, then turned to look at him again. “You enjoy throwing daggers at your wall as a pass time?” He nodded, still avoiding her gaze. “Absolutely,” “Don’t lie to me, boy. I know you better than you know yourself,” 

He cringed. Frigga was kind, gentle, caring and loving. Everything he could ever ask for. But she did not tolerate lying. 

“Sorry,” He sighed heavily. “Simply a long night,” She tutted quietly, walking over to the edge of his bed. The mattress sunk a little as she took a seat, placing his dagger on the nightstand. “Well?” “Well? What?” He frowned, resting his hands behind his head. 

“Well…” She repeated. “What happened?”

He sighed. “Nothing happened. All’s well,” She didn’t offer a response, simply looked at him with a raised eyebrow until he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. “Alright fine. I…” He sighed again. “Must I really? This feels…embarrassing,” 

“Oh, I see,” Frigga nodded seriously. “I suppose now that you’ve grown, neither you or Thor see it fit to talk with your mother anymore,” 

A smile spread slowly across his face. “No I didn't mean it like that,” He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, well, you know how I tend to excuse myself from celebrations, yes?” She hummed. “Yes,” “Right, well, I went out to the gardens in hopes for some peace, only I…ran into someone,” Frigga straightened a little, a smile playing at her lips. “Oh?” “Stop,” He buried his face in his hands. “Stop smiling, Mother. It’s not like I’ve gotten engaged,” “Yes but, whomever it is you met certainly got into your head if you’re this worked up,” She pointed out. 

“No. No one’s gotten into my head,” He went quiet for a minute, before groaning as Frigga chuckled lightly. He threw himself back onto the pillow. Even he could hear how much of a lie that sounded. “Mother please. Is it that bad?” “No, you’re right I’m sorry. It’s not bad. But,” She suppressed the grin spreading across her face. He knew discussing this was a terrible idea. “Please, do continue,” “No, absolutely not,” He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the pointed look from her. He figured the more he thought about it, the worse this would get. “There’s nothing else to tell. I only talked to her to get under her skin. She was…quite agitated. But then she turned out to be amusing, and kind, and we talked, and that was it. She went home, I came back in. The end.” He wouldn’t dare mention the kiss, or the dance to his mother. He could already see her scheming just from these pieces, he refused to add to the fire. Besides, the more he thought about the kiss- the way her lips felt, the smell of her perfume, the softness of her skin, the flush of her cheeks and the way her lipstick was smeared slightly- the more dizzy he felt. 

“The end? Is that way you’re so…flushed?” Frigga leaned in, pressing a hand to his cheek. “Mm, perhaps you’ve fallen ill,” He huffed. “I don’t-” He bit his lip, deciding to just play along. “Yes, maybe I have fallen ill,” “Hm,” She moved her hand away, and he knew she didn’t believe him. He knew that she was probably thinking a million things about this and going to press later. No one ever got under his skin, or so stuck in his mind, he knew his mother would not stop until she got every last detail. 

His heart squeezed a little at how dearly he loved her. While feelings of envy and jealousy were often choking him, it was moments like these that reminded him that he still had Frigga. And that was what mattered, right? 

Frigga looked around Loki’s room for a second before getting up from the bed. “Very well. I suppose I’ll let you rest now,” She smiled softly as she walked to the door. “Rest well,” “Mm,” Was all Loki offered. “Oh and Loki, darling-” He could hear the grin in her voice. “Don’t dwell on it too much. I’m sure you’ll see her again,” 

“Good night, Mother,” He answered loudly, as if trying to block out her words and end the conversation. Frigga chuckled, and then the door closed as she left. 

He grumbled to himself as he tossed and turned in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

This shouldn’t be bothering him.

He shouldn’t be this agitated about a few simple words.

So what, if she knew he was the prince? What did it matter?

Maybe because for once you hoped someone would like you for just you, the horrible voice in his mind let the insecurities run wild. 

Maybe he would never see you again. Maybe this was a one time thing and he’d never have the pleasure to see your smile again. 

Worse- maybe there would be others. Maybe there already are others. He wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that you were exclusive with anyone- how could you be, when you kissed him? But he couldn’t help thinking that maybe your heart would- or potentially already does- belong to someone else.

It’s not like he dreamt of marrying you. He felt simply…intrigued. No one had interested him as much as you had lately, and the idea that someone else had your attention disturbed him. 

Loki was never one to plead, or even pray- why would he, when he was a prince, a god? Anything he wished was at his fingertips. But he couldn’t help the quiet whispers that escaped his lips, begging that there would be a chance to see you again- to enjoy your beauty and bask in your shine. That perhaps, in the near future, he’d be able to hear those witty remarks and feel your lips against his.

This is me praying that

This was the very first page

Not where the story line ends

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

I was enchanted to meet you

 He hoped and hoped and hoped that if he closed his eyes tonight and let himself sleep, it wouldn’t mean the end. And most of all, he prayed that there wasn’t anyone else. That this didn’t happen out of curiosity's sake- that the kiss wasn’t just to brag amongst friends. It’s happened one too many times, and still he could hear the whispers of past nights when he frequently realized that no one was interested in him, simply the idea of him- the title he possessed and the bragging rights that came with it. 

He prayed silently. Although he wasn’t exactly sure who he was praying to. Did he even need to pray? But perhaps Freyja was listening, and perhaps she’d take pity on him- though he couldn’t be entirely convinced. 

But he still did- praying and pleading quietly with the stars right outside his window and the moon shining its light into his room- hoping that you saw more in him than anyone else ever did. 

Please don’t be in love with someone else

Please don’t have somebody waiting on you

Please don’t be in love with someone else

Please don’t have somebody waiting on you. 

And yet, in the dark of his room, with just his mind as company, he couldn’t help but let the horrid whispers of insecurity take over his every thought until he fell asleep doubting his every thought and emotion. 

*                                                                *                                                           *

Weeks passed before the royal family hosted another ball. It was a simple one, and there was truly no special occasion behind it. Loki suspected his mother caught wind of all his mopping and wallowing and hoped to fix it. 

Not that it was working anyway. He didn’t want to be here. He’d much rather go back to his room and finish reading his book in peace. Instead, he was forced to put on a polite face and greet guests. 

Overall, this night wasn’t going well at all. Not to mention, he still hadn’t stopped thinking about you. Every time you popped into his mind (which was more often than not) his mood instantly soured. It was safe to say he’d been in an ugly mood for a while now. 

He stood in the corner of the ballroom, drink in hand and surveying the room after exchanging pleasantries for what felt like hours. 

He really really wished he wasn’t here. Thor was talking his ear off- and while he loved his brother dearly, he really wished to be alone right now. Everywhere he looked he saw fleeting glances that reminded him of you. Stupid things like hair in a shade just like yours- a gown with a colour matching the one you wore that night- a laugh that sounded ju-

His head whipped around when he caught the sound of that laugh. His hand went up to shush Thor’s talking. 

This wasn’t possible. There was no possible way it could be you. 

And yet when his eyes found the source of the sound, his heart soared and fluttered. 

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

Suddenly, the night didn’t seem so boring. He couldn’t find it in himself to care about what Thor was asking. 

He felt giddy inside, like a child experiencing the beauty of the world for the first time, and he couldn’t stop the huge smile spreading across his face. It was you. It really, truly, was you- standing right across the room, laughing with your friends. You looked breathtaking, dressed in a beautiful gown and face shining with joy. 

“Oh,” Thor's loud voice brought him back. “Is that why you’ve been so gloomy?” Loki cringed at how obvious Thor made the statement. “Brother, I beg you, stop talking,” “Why?” Thor beamed. “Come now, we shall go over and say hello,” “No we won’t be doing anything,” Loki tried to argue but before he could even finish his sentence, Thor had already left Loki’s side and crossed the room to the group of ladies. 

Fuck. 

Whatever it was that he was saying had the girls giggling. And, as if it couldn’t get any worse, he pointed very clearly at Loki as he talked, causing the girls to turn and see him.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

Loki gave an awkward wave at the group. Your eyes lingered on him a little after the group turned back to listen to Thor, and he flashed you a smile. As soon as you turned back around though, he ran a hand down his face in exasperation. What was Thor thinking? Marching over there like it was nothing. Did he not realize how embarrassing this was? What was he even saying to them? What if he was telling some horrible story? He groaned internally as horrible scenario after horrible scenario played out in his mind. Was he trying to serenade them? Why were they laughing so much? Why was Thor grinning like that? Oh what if he was telling some stupid tale? Or was he making up some exaggerated lie about him? And why-

“You look like you’re trying to glare a hole through his skull,”

He jumped, turned to see you smiling softly at him. When did you even get there? Perhaps he got too distracted with plotting Thor’s death. 

“Perhaps I am,” He tried to keep his voice calm, but his heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest? Could you hear how loud it was? Why was it suddenly so quiet? All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. Was he breathing too loud? 

Focus. He needed to focus. He’s getting too much into his head. It’s not like he was madly in love or anything- it’s a simple…interest. Yes, that was it. You simply intrigued him, nothing more. So why did his palms suddenly feel so sweaty as you grinned at him, and why was he so damn nervous? He never got nervous. His face felt like he was on fire. Was he blushing? He cursed himself mentally at least a million times. 

“Your highness?” Your voice brought him out of his head. 

“Sorry,” He mumbled. Stop overthinking it. And why did it bother him so damn much that you used that title? “What was that?” 

“I said, what reasons would you have to drill a hole into his skull?” 

Gods, you were so beautiful. How could anyone be so gorgeous? How could anyone even be allowed to be this stunning? The way your eyes shone with held back laughter, and the soft grin on your lips.

Oh good Norns, her lips. 

No. No. He mentally scolded himself. Stop it. 

“Well,” He acted as cool as he felt- basically, not cool at all. “Other than the fact that he’s my brother?” That got a laugh out of you. Loki: 1 Thor: 0. 

When did this even turn into a competition? Then again, it really did set a fire under him when he saw how easy you were around Thor. 

“Fair enough I suppose,” You shrugged. 

He couldn’t stop the question from coming out. “What was Thor telling you about?” 

“Oh! His Highness was just chatting,” 

“Mm, chatting,” He repeated absentmindedly. You both fell silent for a few moments. “So,” You started awkwardly. “How are you enjoying the party, my prince?” 

“Don’t call me that,” He said a bit too quickly- a bit too harshly. 

You blinked. “Sorry? Why not? You are a prince,” He shook his head. “I apologise, that was rather rash. I just…well,” he sighed. “That night a few weeks back? It felt…nice, to be just a stranger. You made it feel nice to be a stranger with no burden, no title, no importance. Just…another man. I hope…you would be kind enough to keep it that way, between us,” he explained hesitantly. 

“...I see,” You cleared your throat, and he could swear you were fighting back a chuckle. “So, what shall I refer to you as?” “Hm,” He grinned. “Loki works just fine, darling,”

“Loki,” You said hesitantly, as if testing it out and he nearly died right on the spot. “Alright,” You beamed. And then the silence came over again as you both watched people dance across the floor. 

But the question still ate at him. “I can’t help but ask again- honestly, what was Thor telling you? Knowing him, it was either an exaggerated lie or the most embarrassing story in all Nine Realms,” You chuckled. “Well, he was telling us a story,” That had to be the most terrifying sentence he’s ever heard. “Really? Please, do tell,”

“Well, he was telling us this story about a really handsome fellow who’s got quite the personality. He’s kind, and charming, with gorgeous hair and really pretty eyes,” 

He should just listen to the rest of the story before jumping to conclusions, but he couldn’t stop the image of Thor popping into his mind, followed by a wave of bursting fury. He had the audacity- 

“And,” You continued. “Legend has it, he met a brilliant woman- or so they say- but when she left, he fell into a horrible tragic gloom. He was all frowns and grumpy and nothing could ever break through his wallowing and mopping,” He genuinely could not listen to this anymore. His chest felt like it was going to burst from pain and he tasted bile in his throat. Maybe he was falling ill. “I’ll have you know, Thor has been all beams and grins all month,” 

Something passed over your face, and you bit your bottom lip. “Who’s talking about Thor?” “You said ‘handsome fellow’ and ‘charming and kind’ and ‘great hair’ or whatever-” “I told you I’m not into blonds,” You interrupted. 

Now what does that have to do with anything? 

“How does that relate to this conversation?” 

You shook your head, shoulders shaking with laughter. How could you be laughing right now? “Okay, I’ll slow down. Prince Thor told us a brilliant story about this beautiful man, and I came to see you immediately after…” You trailed off, as if expecting him to finish the thought. 

“Yes, you came to rub it into my face. Funny,” His tone went cold. 

You placed a hand on his arm. “Loki, you are the gorgeous man of the story,” Oh. 

And suddenly, his heart was back to pounding rapidly. “Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh I see,” In the back of his mind, he registered how similar this was to the night you met. 

You chuckled. “Yeah, I’m glad you got it now,” You smiled widely, your eyes scanning the dance floor before returning to him. “Dance with me?” You repeated the same words he had said. 

Oh. Oh dear Norns. His heart felt like it was gonna burst, and his face was on fire. 

He nodded slowly. “Oh. Yes, absolutely,” You took his hands and walked to the center of the room just as the music began a new tone. And as cliché as it would sound, he felt everything melt away as you began to dance. It was nothing but him with you in his arms, and the sound of music. And that gorgeous, gorgeous smile of yours. 

This night is flawless, don't you let it go

I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

As the song ended, he held you tighter in his arms, his cheeks aching from how hard he'd been smiling. Your face was slightly flushed, and you were a little breathless, but you looked at him with such adoration his heart squeezed. 

“You, my darling,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “are enchanting,” 

I was enchanted to meet you

And although he knew guests were mumbling at the scene, he couldn’t find himself to care. What man could, when such a gorgeous woman was in his arms, grinning at him so widely?

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki #Loki (TV) #Loki (Taylor's Version) #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki odinson

[miikishii]

To Hold the Sea | Ch. 8

main masterlist

series masterpost | previous chapter | next chapter

Synopsis: Something changes.

Warnings: reader experiencing self-doubt, romance (ew)

When you return to your apartment, Dazai is laying on the couch, something plays on the TV, but he’s not paying it any mind. When you walk in he looks at you, waiting for something to happen. You sigh and walk toward the kitchenette.

“Rough night?”

You look over at him, an aggravated look on your face,

“Something like that.”

“What happened?”

“I’m sure you already know.”

He gives you a sideways smile and a shrug,

“I just wanted to hear it from you.”

You escape to your room, rather, the only other room in the apartment that isn’t a bathroom. He doesn’t ask you about it again, but part of you wishes he would. You wanted to confide in him. You wanted him to confide in you too. After a few hours pass, he asks if you’d like to watch a movie with him. You agree and he lets you choose.

“We should probably buy a few more movies, I’m not sure how many times we can watch the same 5 over again…”

He hums in response as you slide the disc into the player. When you turn to the couch he’s barely left you any room, but when you walk towards the only empty space he opens his arms wide. You smile and fall into his arms,

“Thought you were just gonna be a couch hog.” he feigns an offended look, 

“I would never!” he scoffs.

You don’t pay attention to the movie. Your mind is locked in on the way his arms cross over your waist, how he leans his head into the crook of your neck every so often, how it feels so loving.

“I was at Ango’s last night.”

“What happened?”

“I think I got tired of walking so I called him. He picked me up.”

“Nothing else?”

“Well, I was mad when I woke up. He just scolded me for drinking too much, said he cares about us.” Dazai gives a bitter laugh. A heavy silence falls between you and lingers for the rest of the movie, at least, the part where you were still awake. When you do wake up, you’re still laying with him, the TV now off, and Dazai likely asleep behind you. You go to move to your bed and you hear him stir.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep,” you whisper. He takes a deep breath in and gets up, following you to your room and tucking himself in comfortably. You take your time to look at his face, even in darkness you think he’s beautiful. In darkness metaphorical and literal, he has always been beautiful to you. You wouldn’t lie and say you fully understand him but, in your own way, you know him, and he knows this. You think back to the two of you dancing in the living room. You think back to nights at Lupin. You think of moments you figure he was truly happy, even just a little, something you always hoped for him. You wonder if you alone are enough for him. A new kind of fear fills your heart. Without opening his eyes, Dazai reaches a hand out to your shoulder and pulls himself closer to you.

“Go to sleep,” he grumbles. Something strange washes over you at this. Who knows if it was what he intended, but his actions foster comfort within you. 

“Are you glad to have me?” you half hope he doesn’t hear you.

“Of course.” His response is automatic.

“Are you sure?” he chuckles,

“When am I not? Do you need me to reassure you?”

“A little bit.” He clicks his tongue,

“I am glad I met you. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

You nod slightly and finally lay down fully. When you wake again it’s morning and Dazai is still beside you, not asleep, but beside you. He stares blankly at the ceiling, thinking about something. He notices you’re awake and glances your way,

“Good morning,” he smiles peacefully. You close your eyes and nuzzle into your pillow, 

“Mornin’.” he rolls onto his stomach next to you, his face close to yours,

“Dream of me?” he laughs

“You wish.”

“Sometimes I do.” You peek an eye out of the pillow fluff at this,

“Dream of me? Or wish I dreamed of you?” You raise a brow.

“Both,” You give him a playful thwack on the head and ruffle his hair,

“Shut it.”

“We should do something today.”

“Like what?”

“Dunno.”

You groan into your pillow.

“Go get something at a cafe, see the light of day for a while?”

“Mhm, sounds nice.” He rolls out of the bed and the sheets pull you toward him,

“Shall we?”

You lift your head to look at him; his hair disheveled from sleep and your teasing, his face a little puffy, the clothes and bandages he wears in a twisted sort of mess. You’re brought back to your thoughts and worries from last night. He is beautiful. The way the sun sneaks into the room through the curtains makes his eyes glow. 

“Five more minutes?” you ask. He nods and walks away. You don’t have the courage to ask him to stay. When you get yourself together and meet him in the kitchen, the smell of tea catches your attention, he made a cup for you. You smile to yourself and join him on the couch. You drink your tea quietly and he asks you out to breakfast. The two of you get ready and walk to a cafe a few blocks away. He pays.

“Such a gentleman, aren’t you?”

“When I want to be, yes,” his smile evident in his words.

You both watch the people outside. Some making their daily commute, a few on their daily runs or walks, and couples wandering into the cafe you were in.

“A bit of a romantic place for you, huh?” you question,

“You don't have to think of it like that.”

“I don’t have to? So I can.” He smirks and sips his drink

“You can.” his eyes bore into yours with such gravity it takes you by surprise. 

Butterflies swarm in your stomach. You take another bite of your pastry and he relaxes in his chair. When you met Dazai he wasn’t so… flirty. He loosened up a bit over the years as anyone does, but it was something that became more obvious with his friends. With you. It was something you were proud of. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, still looking out the window.

“You.” You giggle and he turns to you, leaning his head in his hands,

“I hoped so. Where should we go next?”

“I thought the park would be nice,” he stands up and offers you his hand. When you take it he smiles and winks. As you walk he swings your hands lightly. When you comment on it he just laughs and says, “Am I not allowed to enjoy myself?” You roll your eyes and continue walking. Your day goes on like this, playful, relaxing; you feel the best you have in a while. You feel loved. From that day on, the days you spent in hiding were a little more pleasant. You realize how completely lost in thought you are when Ango pokes you on the shoulder. It’s funny how much comes back to you in the blink of an eye.

“Are you alright?” his voice is soft as he rouses you from thought. 

“Oh, yeah… I’m fine.”

“I should get going now, it’s pretty late.”

“Yeah- sorry- Um, get home safe.” You blurt,

“I will, I will. Thanks,” he laughs.

You follow him awkwardly to your door and close it behind him. You haphazardly put your bowl down in the sink, more focused on the nostalgic feeling Ango resurfaced. You walk sluggishly to your room but when you look to your bed, it’s not empty like you’re expecting. You freeze, a little startled to see Dazai lying down and reading peacefully.

note: hehe I'm causing problems

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #ango x reader #bungo stray dogs #ango sakaguchi #bsd imagines #bsd ango #dazai bsd #dazai angst #dazai fluff #dazai imagines #bsd dazai #bsd fluff #bsd angst

[a-tale-of-legends]

Over thinker( but not really)

Summary: In which Leon thinks a lot ( and it keeps him awake)

Notes: whatever the ship name for Leon x Raihan x Piers is, this is that. I like writing characters reflecting :) Also super sorry if this is ooc, I genuinely haven't interacted with/ written these characters in a while. I just pressed on and wrote the fluff lol. Also I did NOT edit this bad boy, so sorry for any spelling errors. I still hope you enjoy!!!

If he were to be honest, and he is, he never fully expected to be the cuddler and cuddlee. Raihan and Piers lay on each side of him, Raihan’s head crooning near his neck, and Piers resting on his chest. Both of which are latching into him,allowing zero escape, all three of their legs tangled together in a comfortable mess. And- he’s being truthful here- he did not expect them to be cuddlers. At all. Okay maybe Raihan- he liked to lean on close friends, Leon knew that much. But Piers? Piers liked his space and privacy, which they respected. What more, Piers was a horrid night owl. It took them a while to even get comfortable sleeping together, even more so to drag Piers to bed and make sure he stays there. And yet here he is, an arm wrapped around Leon, comfortable and sleeping away. Leon can't help but feel pride. He’s glad Piers feels safe with him to fall asleep

It’s still weird that they're so cuddly. Not a bad weird. A good weird. Just ….. something he has to get used to now. It is nice, though. And he suppose it makes sense that a dragon and a vampire desire warmth- he chuckles at the thought.

……Sleep eludes him tonight. Not the first time, though he hoped the two bodies next to him would have him asleep in no time. And yet, he stares at the ceiling of Raihan's apartment, wide awake as can be. He's…..not afraid to fall asleep. Not tonight, anyway. No fears of darkness, no flashes of red and blue and purple- nothing. For once, things felt peaceful. So why can't he sleep?

Leon shifts a little- or tries to with his boyfriend's clinging onto him- trying to gather his thoughts. Maybe he's just not tired. Maybe Piers vampirism latched onto him now. He snorts at the thought.

……..

He wonders what Sonia is doing now. Is she with Nessa, like he is with Raihan and Piers? Or is she back home, sleeping away in her own peace? He hopes, either way, she's getting a good night's rest. And if not well. He wonders if she's doing the same thing he’s doing right now. Thinking away.

“Lee,” Raihan’s voice almost made Leon jump out of his own skin. Leon looks down to see a familiar turquoise eye looking up at him, “ I can hear you thinking, love”

An urge to roll his eyes is strong, but instead he chooses to worry- playfully.

“ Sorry it woke you up, then,” he teases, and it's Raihan that rolled his eyes.

“ Mm-hmm” Raihan hums, then he yawns, rising up on his arms, “ Well? What's got you overthinking?”

“ I'm not overthinking-”

“ Hhhrrrrmp” Piers grunts, waking up himself. He doesn't open his eyes just yet, only speaking, “ Why are we talking in the middle of the night?”

“ Lee’s overthinking,”

“ I'm not-”

“ Okay,” Piers yawns, “ Stop overthinking,Leon. Go to bed- ow!”

Leon suppresses a giggle as Raihan pinches Piers, earning them both a glare from the man.

“ Alright, alright, we can talk about it, jeez-”

“ We really don't have to” Leon interrupts, “ It's really nothing”.

Raihan and Piers look at each other, then back at Leon.

“ Lee we all know when you say ‘its really nothing', it's absolutely something”

“But it really isn't!”

“ And when you insist it isn't, it usually is,” Piers adds, also rising up, staring down at Leon, “ So let's cut to the part where you tell us what's up, hm?”

Leon grumbles. Leave it to these two to go straight for the kill….

“ Alright! It's Sonia. Just….thinking about how she's doing, that's all,”

Raihan tilts her head to the side, but before he could say anything, Piers crashes back down next to Leon.

“ Piers-”

“ I’m listening. But I'm also fucking tired. So.” Piers mumbled, and Leon chuckled. Once again - never would have expected this from the vampire man. Though the more he thinks about it, the more that's on him than anything. Raihan shakes his head, but nudges Leon on his shoulder, gently offering him to speak.

“ …..Well. I couldn't sleep. And I didn't exactly feel any distress so I just. Let my mind wander. And I ended up thinking about Sonia,” he shrugs, “ Still don't know why I'm awake though”

Raihan hums, nodding his head.

“ Did you talk to her recently?” He asks. Leon scrunches up his face a bit. Has he? They certainly have been talking more since he lost his title, but recently?

“.....No, not really”

“ Then maybe you just miss her,” Piers offered, his voice muffled slightly by the sheets.

“ We could set up something if you'd like,” Raihan offers next. Leon hums, titling his head to the side slightly.

“ That would be nice…..we’ve both been pretty busy….” He trails off,his mind going back. Back to the gym challenge. Back to their rivarly. Back to home. Back to-

“ She gave me that title first, you know” he says without thinking. Raihan raises a brow.

“ What?”

Leon blinks.

“ Uh. Before the gym challenge. I…..I was so scared. I didn't think anyone would like me or….or if I would make it far,” he swallows, memories flooding back into his mind. Him staring down at the train station, his legs refusing to move. The fear of leaving home, the worry of his loved ones health, the thought of him failing- it was all too much. He remembers Sonia’s touch. He remembers her giving him a warm smile. He remembers what she said-

“ She told me to create a persona. One that's ever confident and that can do anything and everything with a smile,” he smiles softly at the memory, “ ‘The Unbeatable Leon’”

There's a short silence between the three. Raihan looks down at Leon with slightly widened eyes.

“ I….I didn't know that,” he mutters.

“ Of course you didn't. It was our secret. No one had to know,”

“ So…..” Piers speaks up, “ When we first met you that….was a persona?”

“....Kinda?” Leon thinks back some more, “ Sonia….she told me that Leon and Unbeatable Leon were one of the same. Both can do anything really- it's just that Unbeatable Leon was a tool to get me going, you know?” He frowns

“....I don't think she ever meant for it to become my entire being,”

“Lee…..that's not your fault,” Raihan lowers his hand to meet Leon's, giving it a small squeeze.

“ I know….but it's not her fault either,’

“ Obviously. Neither of you expected it to become a marketing tool,” Piers says curtly. Rose’s name is left unsaid, thankfully, but it still hangs in the air.

“ I…..should probably talk to her about it,” Leon sighs, “...Later. I can see you getting grumpy Piers”.

“ Excuse me for being tired and still wanting to comfort my boyfriend,”

“ Yeaaaah, we better get back to sleep” Raihan says with a smirk, “ We don't want you becoming a vampire again”

Leon doesn't suppress his giggles this time, chuckling to himself as Raihan gets back into his original spot.

“ I can't believe you're still on that” Piers huff.

“ And you don't deny it, so for all I know, I'm right~” Raihan fires back, only to be accompanied by a yawn.

That seems to do it. Whatever small banter that was starting to brew dies quietly.

And soon Leon is back to where he was before. But this time he finds himself growing tired himself, sleep easing into him, one last memory plays in his mind……

~~~~

“ Unbeatable? Me?” Leon asks meekly. Sonia smiles, and Leon feels his worries ease.

“ Yep! The Unbeatable Leon! Everyone will love it!”

“ Everyone…..” he shakes his head, “But! I never beat you in battle, Sonia! How can I-”

“ Because!” She cuts him off, “ I believe in you, silly. Someday everyone is gonna see how bright you really are, just like I do!” She snickers a bit, “ Who knows maybe you’ll be able to beat me in battle soon~”

“Sonia!” Leon whines, and Sonia simply laughs, moving in front of him.

She stands in front of the train station, a big smile with a hand outstretched.

“ So, Mr. Unbeatable…..you ready to go?”

Leon looks at his best friend, and the hand she lends out. Unbeatable Leon…..the guy who does everything and anything with a confident smile. Like her. Like Sonia. He beams, and takes Sonia’s hand.

“ You know it!”

#legendverse #uuuuuuuuh #i'm gonna be brave and main tag #champion leon #gym leader raihan #gym leader piers #pokemon sonia #chat what the fuck you call Leon x Raihan x Piers i freaking forgor #r writes

[lovelikedestiny]

There is a suppressed gasp that rouses Nile out of a troubled sleep filled with salt water burning in her nose, soundless screams that rip open her throat and a terrible weight in her lungs as she drowns again, againagainagain.

Heart pounding like a little bird against his bony cage she remains in her position, not daring to move, listening for another sound, an indication for what exactly has woken her. Or more specifically who.

For thirty seconds nothing can be heard except for the breathing of her new team members and the silence starts to crackle in Nile’s ears. Maybe she’s too paranoid, considering the last few weeks and their events it is no wonder. Just as she’s slowly dozing off again another gasp sounds, more clear and kind of jerky as if the person who has made the noise tried to suppress it.

Instantly, Nile raises her head, searching for the source of the nightly disturbance, and her gaze wanders to Joe and Nicky’s bed. Both men have gone to sleep as they always do: Joe plastered at Nicky’s back, one arm tightly around his soulmate, Nicky facing the door of the room.

But something is different now.

The centuries-old couple merges to one single body under the blanket but the peaceful image is disrupted by a violent twitch, followed by another strained breath. And then Nicky throws the blanket away, staggering out of bed, not as silent and smooth as usual.

Heaving breath after breath into his lungs he crouches on the floor, face turned away from Nile, who is too startled to do anything but stare at him. If she was sleepy a few moments ago, she is wide awake now at the latest.

Before she can open her mouth to quietly address him, because he obviously is not fine, he stumbles to his feet, leaning heavily on the door frame when he leaves their common bedroom. Without a second thought Nile swings her feet out of bed on the verge of running after him - the audible retching, abnormally loud in the dark of the night, coming from the bathroom makes her freeze like a deer in headlight.

“Fuck,” she whispers, more to herself, and deceides its best to inform one of the others when she realizes that she isn’t the only one being alerted by Nicky’s behavior.

Joe and Nicky always appear to know where their other half is and lay their eyes immediately on each other while Nile hasn’t even begun to notice that Nicky returned from grocery shopping or Joe came back inside after capturing a fantastic view in stunning colors on a canvas.

So it’s actually no surprise that her eyes meet the dark ones of Joe, which are infinitely deep in the soft glow of the moon, slightly lighting the room through a window. 

“Joe, what is wrong wi-?” She starts in a low voice, not being able to finish her question as Joe already starts moving. Heading towards the bathroom from where another gag can be heard, his shoulders are tense with concern under the fabric of his shirt.

Due to Joe’s sensible distress, worry sprouts in Nile too, leaving her to nervously fumble with her pillow. What the hell is she supposed to do? Can she even help? She doesn’t know the others as well as she would like to but it takes time to fit in her new team. But Nile is determined to do at least something, no matter how small.

“Who is it?”

“Motherfucking shit!” Nile curses, biting her tongue to prevent further swearing, and is proud to not have jumped up to the ceiling in shock.

Andy watches her observant, dark hair tousled from sleep which makes her look less sharp and cutting. It takes Nile a blink to get that Andy is waiting for an answer to her abrupt question and two more blinks to comprehend the words. “Oh, uh…Nicky, I suppose?” 

Goddammit is that a question or an answer, Nile?

“Nicky,” she repeats a little firmer, clearing her throat when Andy doesn’t visibly react. It unsettles her, especially because she has no fucking idea what is happening.

Andy clearly does and merely sighs, what Nile has never heard her do before. “Fine,” she says and gets up. Her steps tell from the same strength she had when Nile met her, but there is a new caution. As if she would be aware of how vulnerable she is now, without her healing. “Come on, kid.”

Nile slowly stands, torn between the urge to listen to a superior and the wish to check on Nicky and Joe. “To where?”

“The kitchen, preparing honey milk.”

Andy is already in the hallway as Nile tears herself out of her rigor and hurries after her. “Honey milk?” She asks, convinced to have misheard because she can’t picture Andy who exes a whole Vodka bottle and kills as many with her ax as a whole army, preparing honey milk. “Andy, do you really mean honey milk?”

Andy doesn’t spare her a look. “Did I stutter, kid?”

“No.”

“Then stop asking questions you know the answer to.”

In the kitchen Andy is already getting four mugs and prompts Nile with a crook of her finger to come closer. She does, skepticism still wavering inside her. It won’t sit with her right that she and Andy are calmly going to prepare some hot beverages at 3 a.m while Nicky is in the bathroom, puking in the toilet bowl with Joe by his side, although Nile has no fucking clue to what has caused this.

But as she watches Andy closely, who gets the honey jar and plops one big spoonful into each of the mugs, she realizes that Andy is, in fact, not calm.

The movement of her hands is tense and there is a deep line of concern engraved in the skin around her mouth. 

“You could heat up the milk, kid," Andy suggests quietly and Nile coughs to cover up that she was standing dumbstruck in the middle of the room, gawking at Andy as if she were some weird unicorn.

“I could,” she replies, stifling an upcoming yawn, and moves to the fridge for the milk. “if you could be so kind as to tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Nicky had a nightmare,” Andy says matter-of-factly, throwing Nile a pot which she catches by sheer luck.

“Last time I checked he was throwing up and Joe didn’t seem particularly unconcerned.” Nile pours some of the milk into the pot, placing it on the stove and turning it on. “And it doesn’t explain why we are preparing honey milk in the middle of the night.”

Andy licks the honey off the spoon, keeping the metal pressed against her tongue thoughtfully. “Okay, listen, Nile,” she finally takes the floor and the softness in her eyes makes Nile swallow with a clicking sound. “We know how fucking hard the situation is you’re in right now. All of this shit is overwhelming and new and goddamn confusing and hell, you should think that it gets easier somehow. That we should know by now how to handle things like that but we actually don’t.”

Nile doesn’t dare to speak.

After a moment of deliberate silence Andy continues gently. “But I can tell you one thing: We are here to help you, no matter how. And this?” She points to the hallway where as if summoned Nicky and Joe appear - Nicky even paler, but not as troubled as before, Joe keeping close to his husband, one arm slung protectively around his waist. “Is one of our ways to cope.”

“An immortal life isn’t light to bear, Nile,” Joe says, assigning Nicky to a chair. “We witness a lot of awful things and each death is absolutely not pleasant and can be haunting too. Years leave scars on our souls, even though our bodies heal.”

That sounds immensely motivating, Nile wants to say sarcastically, an inner defense mechanism, a response to all the chaos her life is drowning in at the moment. Looking optimistic into my future will be no problem with a prospect like that. I can’t wait to accept my new hell.

None of the words reach the tip of her tongue as she scrutinizes the other team members, becoming only aware of the leaden fatigue marking them now. The smile Joe gifts Nile with is lacking radiance, Nicky’s eyes are overshadowed by the last traces of his nightmare, and Andy’s shoulders are hunched as she fills their mugs with the heated milk.

With a gentle touch to Nicky’s cheek she slides the hot beverages of Joe and Nicky over the table top, accepting their gestures of thanks with a soft smile.

“What we’re trying to say,” Nicky picks up the threads with a hoarse voice, warming his palms on the ceramic of his mug, strongly leaning in Joe’s direction as if looking for the support of his husband. “Is that however your way to cope with all of this may look like later on, we will be there for you to guide you through.”

A small crease appears between his eyebrows and not even a second later Joe slides one hand into Nicky’s hair and carefully starts to massage the back of his head.

It takes a while for Nile to click and she takes a quick sip of her sweetened milk to distract herself from the realization that…

Joe massages the spot where Keane shattered Nicky’s skull with a merciless bullet.

Keane, the nightmare and puking - it all makes gruesome sense now.

Although we can heal, we are not indestructible.

The image of how scarred their souls must be after all this time tightens Nile’s throat in a wave of empathy and shared pain, followed by a cold rush of fear at the thought of how wounded her own soul may be in a couple of years.

But beyond the unknown of this new insight a tiny bit of…something sparks in her chest, like the first ray of sunlight in spring.

Hope. Because she is not alone even if it currently feels like this.

Comfort. Because these people who have decided to use their gift to help humanity are willing to lend her a hand in this strange part of her life.

She isn’t even mortified by her suspicious sniffling or that she has to wipe her eyes - overcome by the kindness of Nicky, Joe and Andy. “Thank you.”

“Not for that, kid,” Andy waves it off, already preparing herself a second milk with honey. “Just…don’t exclude us, okay?”

Not like Booker who held his own agony too close to his chest.

Joe winks at her, the concern slowly leaking out of his posture. “Wait until you find out what Andy’s coping mechanism is.”

Andy’s head snaps up threateningly. “Oh, you fucker!”

“She likes to cuddle,” Nicky reveals, unfazed by Andy’s growl, a crooked smirk on his face.

“I made you honey milk and this is how you thank me?” Andy groans, pretending to hit him with the rag.

Despite the serious note still drenching the air Nile can’t stop herself from giggling. “So you all have different ways to deal with the shit on earth?”

“Yes,” Joe confirms quietly. “We all struggle to see the light from time to time but what matters is that we can seek strength in each other.”

Nicky nods slightly. “We are not meant to be alone, Nile. There is a reason for that and I believe it’s because we cannot bear the weight of our ability on our own but together.”

“Got it.” Nile doesn’t feel good but she definitely feels more at ease now, knowing that her new team - these capable fighters with hearts of gold - has got her back. She raises her mug. “So, who's up for round two? Andy not included.”

#the old guard #tog fanfic #tog fic #ficlet #nile freeman #nicolo di genova #yusuf al-kaysani #andromache the scythian #found family #team as family #joe x nicky #immortal husbands #coping mechanisms #everyone is soft and needs a break #this is also the first thing I've written after an eternity due to certain things in rl #so i hope this is ok

[vidovy]

.

I'm feeling extremely anxious right now. I can feel my heart beating against the pillow. The only thing comforting to think right now is that it could be his chest. This pillow could be his chest. And maybe he could softly pet my head to ease me down. Or maybe we get up and go outside and sit on the porch. We have tea and breathe the cold air of the night. Soon enough we get cold and head back in, he asks if I wanna go back to bed, and as much as I wanna go and lay with him on a warm, cozy bed, I stay in the leather sofa that's uncomfortable and cold. I stay there and wonder. Why am I so anxious about? I started to think about it.. it made me rage, it made me sad, but after feeling these intense emotions I forgot what even had caused them. I sigh, get up and head to bed. He's still wide awake staring at the ceiling as I awkwardly get in the bed, laying beside him close enough to feel the heat of his body. His slow, calm breathing is enough to ease me. It would be enough to ease me.

#and it's at this point that I start to feel like my heart is gonna jump out of my chest #it's painful #to think of you #I wish you.. #I wish #I hope you know how much you mean to me #and that I'm sorry #I'm sorry I crave your touch #god. I love to think you'd laugh at this #I love to think you'd tease me about it rather than go completely silent as you read through this #cause even judgement from you would be a joy to experience #honestly. I think I'd love to hear you laugh. #no matter at what #hold my hand as you tell me you're sorry #and kiss my knuckles as you you wipe a tear off your cheek #cause even after laughing so cruelly at it. you still know it's important #and it's also important to you to reassure me that.. you find it endearing. #you find me endearing #and you love me. as much as I love you #maybe even more #maybe.

[redroses07]

Nightmares//Mike Wheeler

Mike Wheeler x Fem!reader fluff

Summary: Reader has nightmares when she tries to sleep so she visits Mike in the middle of the night to talk. This takes place sometime between season 3 and 4

Content warning: A little bit of angst, mentions of nightmares. Mentions of PTSD.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: This is my first time posting any of my writing anywhere, and of course it had to be Mike because I love him. I know a lot of people don't like him but you know what, they can fight me. Anyways, hope you enjoy! 🥰

You laid on your bed, in the dark, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling. This wasn't the first night your body had refused to doze off. You were plagued with so much exhaustion during the day that you had to fight to stay awake in class. It was a coping mechanism really, not sleeping, considering the horrific nightmares that came when you did. You would rather die of sleep deprivation than relive the terrors of the upside down like some sort of twisted movie. You sighed and rolled out of bed, an idea forming in your mind. You strode over to your messy desk where your walkie-talkie resided. It really was wrong to wake him at this hour, even if it was a Friday. Although you knew that being in his arms was the only thing that would help you fall asleep at this point. You turned on the device, the static loud as you adjusted it's frequency.

"Mike," you whisper into the walkie-talkie. "Mike are you there?"

You waited several moments, half-hoping he wouldn't answer so you could avoid the guilt and embarrassment that came with waking him.

Mike's sleepy voice said your name through the static, your heart skipping a beat when you heard it. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah...It's just, I can't sleep. Would it be okay if I came over?" You said nervously. This was beyond stupid, you were probably on his last nerve right now.

"Of course! Just come through the basement door, and be quiet so my parents don't hear you." He explained.

"Okay, thank you so, so much." He didn't sound angry or annoyed which made you feel much better.

"See you in a minute." Mike said before turning off the walkie-talkie. You smiled, set the device back on your desk and slipped on your worn out black converse high-tops.

You exit your room and walk downstairs, stepping as softly as possible, not wanting to wake my parents. I quietly exited the house and entered the late-night streets of Hawkins. The air had a slight chill to it which was unusual for the time of year. It smelled of pine trees and early fall.

You speed walk down the sidewalk, your heart rate increasing as you did. you arrived at Mike's house in less than five minutes due to the fact that you lived so close.

You headed around back and could see a faint light coming from the basement window. as you got close enough to look inside you saw Mike laying on the couch, seemingly waiting for you. You lightly tapped on the door, careful not to make a ruckus.

Mike opened the door, his smile making a warm feeling grow inside you. God, you loved his smile.

"Hey" Mike whispered, taking your hand and pulling you inside the basement. His dark curly hair was messy, but in your opinion it just made him look cuter.

"Hey..." you said softly as you looked up at him. Was he always this tall?

"So, what's wrong? you sounded really freaked out." Mike wondered, squeezing your hand tighter as you both sat on the couch, you hadn't realized he was still holding it.

"It's just..." you began, your voice catching as the tears you've been holding back for months threatened to spill. You had never talked about this, not out loud. But you figured Mike should be the first person you tell considering he was your best friend and you may or may not be in love with him.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm here, I'm listening." Mike took his free arm and wrapped it around you, pulling you into him. He smelled strongly of cocoa and cedar, it was a unique smell, but it was your favorite.

"I can't sleep because every time I try I have horrible nightmares. I know that we're safe now but i'm just so scared all the time. And it's gotten so hard lately..." you trailed off as you began to let out shaky sobs.

You buried your face in Mike's chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. Tears leaked from your eyes, like an uncontrollable waterfall.

"Sorry I'm getting your clothes all wet." you muttered, embarrassed.

"Don't worry about that." Mike whispered in your ear, as he slowly ran his fingers through your hair.

"You know, I get them too." His voice was shaky, as if he was on the verge of tears.

"Yeah, all the time...I'm constantly worried that something's going to happen to my family or Will...or El...or you. And the worst part is being alone." He confessed

I looked up and found a pair of sad brown eyes staring back at me. Despite my current emotional state, the butterflies in my stomach came to life.

"I know how you feel, you can't talk to your parents about it. When you wake up you can't scream, so you just sit there and cry and stare at the ceiling." You say softly.

Mike brought his hand up and ran his thumb over your cheek. Goosebumps formed where his skin touched yours. He moved his hand down, softly brushing his fingers against your lips. You smiled under his touch.

"Can I kiss you." He mumbled, and your heart skips a beat.

You nod and his lips crash against yours. The kiss was messy, but you couldn't have asked for anything more. Mike's hands wrap around your waist as you all but fall into him. You smile against his lips. He was perfect, this was perfect.

"Can I...stay here tonight?" you say before planting a short kiss on his cheek.

"Yeah, yeah. We'll just have to hide you from my parents in the morning."

"I've snuck out of my own house I can sneak out of yours." you reply, and he kisses you again, proving that the butterflies in your stomach were still alive and well.

"Here lets go to my room." Mike says as he intertwines his fingers in yours and leads you up the stairs.

The two of you enter his room, you take your shoes and socks off and climb into his bed.

You lay on his chest with his arms draped around you.

Mike kisses you on the forehead and then nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck.

"Night" He whispers against your skin.

"Night." You answer.

You melt into him, feeling safe for the first time in months. In that moment all of your fears disappeared, and you thought of nothing but you and Mike. This was by far the most comfortable you had ever felt. The sound of his heartbeat eventually lulled you to sleep.

You both slept soundly through the night.

#mike wheeler #stranger things x you #stranger things #mike wheeler x you #mike wheeler x y/n #mike wheeler x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #st4 #stranger things season four #mike wheeler imagine #mike wheeler fluff #mike wheeler fic #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things mike #finn wolfhard

[hunting-songs]

The day before the weather was a bit moody. A strong wind had enveloped the entire city, causing the open windows to bang heavily, the treetops to shake as if they were made of paper, the hats of the people on the street flew off as if they had a life of their own. That day they had gone out for a short walk, after the wind had calmed down, however, the aftermath could still be seen in the street. Upon arriving at the park, a lot of petals, flowers and seeds had been torn from their plants and trees. Kurapika squatted on the grass and picked up several viola petals still on their small stem before approaching Senritsu from behind. "Excuse me" 🌼 Carefully, he took a couple of strands of red hair and began to gently braid it, adding a few petals from time to time. He remembered how he would make little braids in his mother's hair. He remembered how he decorated the hair of the girl he liked with flowers. They both seemed very happy when he did that, and suddenly, he wondered if Senritsu would like it too. By the time he was finished, her red hair had been decorated with a few thin braids with viola flowers at its length.

Send 🌼 to put a flower in my muse's hair! Specify what kind of flower! When Senritsu had been a child, she would lay awake between her two older sisters in the bed they used to share until they grew too tall and used to stare wide awake against the dark ceiling of her Mothers vardo while outside a storm would scream and yell like an angry beast. She never could sleep in those nights. She never could sleep in those nights because she was warm and save, while the world outside was raging. She could never sleep in those nights; because she had been in awe; because she had been mesmerized; because she had loved the feeling of the storm outside and small little her witnissing it. Accordingly Senritsu couldn´t wait to go outside and she would have ran outside in the middle of the storm- laughing, listening to the howling of the wind up close without disturbing walls blocking it and feeling the rain clash cold against her face- it she would not have still work to do. Still she was as giddy as a child when she eventually could get out and listen to the sadly slowed down song of the storm and smell the beautiful scent that the harsh rain had left behind. The air was cold and damp, even more so in the park, but it felt good to finally be outside and move after she had been so restless inside.

With the wind still not gone, Senritsu almost did not heard Kurapika approaching,but she did heard his heartbeat change. What before had been a attentive melody, almost alerted and tensed like a bowstring ready to shoot, had calmed down in stark contrast to the last echos of the storm. His fingers moved nimbly through her hair and she just listened attentive with the last rests of the storm suddenly very far away and unimportant. She heard that Kurapika was remembering something. Remembering something that made him happy. Something that made him feel content. Something that produced a melody that she had missed to listen to. Senritsu closed her eyes, listening to the song in the others chest like one would listen to their favorite song. The last wisps of the storm stroked through the crushed grass and for a moment, just a moment, she felt about those nights in her Mothers vardo where she lay with her sleeping sisters safe and sound while the wind blew past the safe walls loudly. And when the other stopped his work and stepped back, Senritsu couldn´t help but sigh in disappointment. The muddy ground squelched miserably under the mans weight as he moved. Already Senritsu missed listening to that song in Kurapikas chest. Still she looked over her shoulder, lowering her head gently in a quiet 'thank you'.

"Thank you, Kurapika." , the woman hummed and turned her head from one side to another, listening to the delicate flowerpetals rustle in her hair as sweet and soft as silk. It was the same song she loved so much to listen to during storms when the leafs were rustling in the angry winds or helplessly swirled around frantically like fingers would frantically run over a harphstrings. It made her smile happily. It made her laugh happily. Still laughing in all good humor the woman ran her small hands through her hair, pulled one of the braids carefully- so carefully, so so carefully, as she did not wanted to destroy the others work- and eyed it attentive. Eventually she looked up to the other, winking in all good humor as she very theatralically posed with her hands folded under her chin: "Mhmmmmmmm,Does it look as leggiadro as it makes me feel?"There was already a chuckle dancing behind her words in all good humor- Senritsu knew that aesthetcally her face was far from pretty yet there was also no pain in her chuckle, just honesty. [ @skarletchains ]

#v: es saß ein klein wild vöglein #skarletchains #awww

[loveryourz-sgj]

If By Chance

Part 1

It's been 4 years later and I still haven't healed from seeing Dj die in front of me. I toss and turn most nights. Usually when I can't sleep I go visit him at his grave. I sit and talk to him for hours knowing I won't ever get a reply back. I was able to buy him a headstone a year ago. It took so long because I was working at a fast food place while being in school and feeding and clothing myself. The night DJ died was the night I stepped away from my other life. I became emotionally unavailable and just numb for the longest. It was so tragic, I was going through jobs, suspensions at school and even foster families. Nobody wanted me but that was because I made it hard for them to want to even be around me.

Most days I was barely responsive. I felt like nobody understood the way my heart broke and that it would be best if I just shut down. Recently I started visiting therapists to see if it would help but experiencing racism in such an extreme way is just some shit I'll never get over no matter how hard I try.

I'm here laying in bed wide awake at 2:32 am just staring at the ceiling of my room. Wondering what my life would be like if i was still in the streets. Although I'm doing honest work now it's a difficult thing to maintain. The streets are what I know the best even though shit can be unpredictable and go left at any time. But I know in order to heal something else has to change.

I met this short thick fine brown girl named Syere when I was on my way to my new construction job. She approached me in a starbucks line by complementing my sleeve of tattoos. I told her she was beautiful and she thanked me and asked if I was single. We ended up exchanging numbers. Everything has been friendly between us for the last few months so I haven't made any other advances.

"Hey, are you up lol." I was reading the text message she had just sent. We had never talked this late before so I didn't know what type of timing she was on initially.

"Yea wide awake. Wassup? U good?" I replied back.

"im good im just up looking stupid and wanted someone to talk to. wanna get otp?" she replied back 7 minutes later.

I just called her instead of replying back. She answered and we started talking about random stuff. But eventually she started asking about my status. "So remind me why you are single again."

"I've been through a lot and I just never had the time to be in a relationship. I told you before losing my brother was a lot for me. He was my only family. And besides a woman wouldn't have found me attractive back then just based on how emotionally unstable I was." I smirked at the thought of my growth. But I felt like I needed more.

"Oh I see. So do you think you are emotionally intelligent enough to fully love a woman the way she wants to be loved?"

"I do" and the conversation went on from there. We ended up having a deep conversation until 6 in the morning. I never had anyone to listen to me fully. Maybe because I was trauma dumping according to my therapist. Once I realized what I was doing, I knew I wouldn't be able to maintain any relationship so I just stayed isolated. I felt like no one should have to deal with me with the state I was in. I felt like I didn't deserve to be loved.

#writers on tumblr #urban #black love #trauma

[ficreadergirl]

Dangerous Inquiries (ch.11)

It was almost morning. The sun was starting to rise. You still hadn't slept since the night before. You just laid there lying awake thinking about Jason's words. What did he mean by "What if it's someone else?". You wondered to yourself. You believed Dick's words. He wouldn't lie to you. Especially about your dad. You also wanted Jason to be right cause you didn't believe your dad could do anything bad to anyone. You checked your phone again if any message from Jason. There was none. You sighed softly and lay still in bed for another few minutes. When was he gonna call you? After a few moments of waiting, you decided to finally get out of bed. You took a bath to wake up and went downstairs to make breakfast. As you reached the kitchen, however, you suddenly froze completely. The front door was wide open. Your heart skipped a beat. Was somebody home? You looked around cautiously but there was nobody there. Slowly you approached the door to close it. How couldn't you hear anyone you thought. Was it Jason again? But why would he leave the door open? You stopped as you realized that maybe it wasn't Jason. Maybe it was your dad's… murderer. That thought caused you to freeze completely. Was it Red Hood? Was he planning to come back? Had he been listening to your conversation? You felt scared. Quickly you backed away from the door. You tried to calm yourself. But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself there was no threat to you, fear kept creeping up inside of you.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and the front door opened wide revealing Red Hood standing behind it. Your heart skipped a beat and you gasped loudly as you started trembling uncontrollably. He quickly pushed you towards the kitchen. He grabbed a knife and placed it under your chin forcing you to look directly in his eyes. "Did you talk to him?" he growled angrily. Your breath caught in your throat. Did he know about the conversation you had with Jason? What if he found out you talked to him? "Nnn… no-" you tried to answer but you couldn't even finish your sentence. A sudden pain shot through your neck. "Ow!!" you cried out as you fell unconscious. You woke up from a nightmare. For a while you were confused. After a while you realised that you must've fallen asleep. Didn't I talk to Jason you wondered. You slowly got up and walked over to the front door. It was closed. You turned to glance over your shoulder and saw that the clock showed it was 3:15 AM. You let out a sigh. You didn't remember falling asleep. Probably because all your thoughts and fears. You sighed again and returned back to bed. You laid there staring up at the ceiling in silence. Eventually you eventually drifted off to sleep. You opened your eyes. There was sunlight streaming in through the window. You rolled out of bed and headed towards the shower. As soon as you entered the bathroom you switched on the faucet and let the hot water run down onto you. The warm water helped you relax. You took a quick and deep breath. And once you felt calmer you began to wash yourself. After finishing washing up you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your body. While you were drying your hair with the second towel, your cellphone rang. You frowned when you saw a number you weren't familiar with appear on the screen. You picked it up reluctantly. "Hello." you said warily. "Hello Y/n." came an unfamiliar female voice on the other end of the line. "Who's this?" you asked confused. "You were cute in your sleep." she chuckled. "What do you mean?" you asked nervously. She giggled again. "Oh… I'm sorry, dearie. It slipped out. I shouldn't have said that." she said chuckling again. "Who's this?" you repeated. But she already hung up. "Shit!!" you cursed. You ran your fingers through your wet hair. What should I do now? You wondered as you stared at the phone. Suddenly you noticed another text message arrive on the screen. You stared at the screen wondering who it could be. It was from a number you didn't recognise. You tapped on the notification. The message popped up. "Hey Y/n, this is Jason. We need to talk. Immediately." Finally a message from him. Finally. You took another deep breath and texted him back "Sure. Tell me the place.".

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#jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you